The Female Vanguard
by SomeoneThatExists
Summary: So when you suddenly wake up as a Sarah Kerrigan rip-off with a giant mutated octopus-woman leaning over you, would you scream and piss yourself or just sigh and say, "How is this my life?" [Or the fanfic where an OC wakes up as a female Vanguard and everyone mistakes you for something else; twist in the OC reincarnation plot bunny; written because of a weird mind] T for language!
1. Chapter 1

**This was written because someone has nothing else to do at home, that someone being me. This'll probably be a short story only, with maybe about a thousand words per chapter...but really, it all mostly depends on if I get enough ideas to power this story.**

**Time to put a twist in the typical reincarnation plot bunny, yeah?**

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_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~  
_

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**/Chapter 1\**

Reincarnation _sucks_.

I mean, if I probably didn't get reborn like this, it might be fine for me.

But this? This is just...**ugh**. It feels so, so, so very very _wrong_.

It was already one thing to get reborn in a different world, said world being the Dragon Age world, but it was another to be reborn as a Hurlock Vanguard in the same world. I probably earned an achievement being the first _female_ Vanguard to be popped out of the broodmother.

Speaking of broodmothers, I have every intention of grossing you out with the details of my birth as a vanguard. I remember in a previous life that my brothers were arguing about just how exactly the broodmother gives birth to little baby hurlocks. First of all, the hurlocks and genlocks are born adult, rotting skin and all. The Emissaries are the one to put on the hurlocks' armor and pretty much just makes them grab whatever weapon you can see in the pile. The weapons themselves vary in quality and quantity, as if the ummmm, 'on-duty' hurlocks get them from corpses and throw them in the mockery of an 'armory' that we have.

As for _how_ we are born, we pretty much pop out the fleshy sacs when we're ready. If you've played the game, you would remember that there was a sort of flesh-like cavern where the broodmother was. The sacs are attached to the hundreds of tentacles that run under the flesh-like cavern, like a pipe, then the sacs itself attaches to the walls like a giant poppable blister. The tentacles are comparable to an umbilical cord that attaches the sac to the broodmother, now that I think about it. Once the hurlock or genlock pops out of the sac, the sac itself shrinks and rots. Disgusting isn't it?

There is a cycle in the breeding too. Hurlocks and genlocks bring women to feed them the same thing the broodmother uses to make hurlock-babies which in turn, turns them into broodmothers. Some of the men are taken and forced to enter a sac, while others are eaten by the broodmother, if not killed by the hurlocks and genlocks on the way. If the men survive being in the sac, they get turned into Vanguards. If not, well, they're dead by that time anyway.

If you're wondering how I can be like this even as I watch men and women turn into monsters...well, I don't really know. I mean, I get that I was reborn in this world, but the surroundings, the sounds, the graphics, per se, are exactly as it is in the game. The physics in this world are very different than the ones from Earth. Not to mention magic. I definitely believe in magic now. I guess, I've sort of accepted it somehow. After spending a decade underground, I've become numb to the game-ish blood and gore happening in it. And after being reborn in this world, I've also noticed that all of my negative emotions were amplified. Exponentially. Like, take humanity's general 'ewww-get-the-fuck-away-inferior-beings' attitude to the elves and multiply it by eternity. It won't even be _close_.

That, and the Archdemon keeps me on a very tight leash. When I've been born, I've been noticeably different. I still had distinct feminine features, my face wasn't affected though the rest of my skull was. My hair was replaced by spikes and four horns, two facing front and two facing back. My skin was not really rotting, but it was hardened and smooth as leather. I could probably withstand maybe three or four ogre hits, max. There were spikes growing out of my collar bone, the back of my elbow joint, the side of my hips and on my knees. My spine was lined with tiny spikes, almost reminiscent of the Archdemon's back. I also had bone tentacle things growing out of my lower back. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on which side you were), I absolutely had no skill in fighting. The best I can do was deflect arrows and dodge spells, maybe throw in a few kicks in there.

Now that I think about it, I kind of look like Sarah Kerrigan from Starcraft. Only I was much more disgusting and had horns. Apparently, this was because instead of the broodmother fluid that turns people into hurlocks, the fluid, or whatever was used on the others, whatever was used on me was from the Archdemon itself.

I mean, oh my god, I had a dragon for a dad and a disgusting cannibal mutated fat mother.

I was the only one of my kind though apparently there was another who had undergone the same thing I did and didn't survive. In the end, the only thing that I carried over from my past life were my memories of the game series and my penchant for acting. I absolutely loved playing with the Generals when they were sent to look for me, over and over and _over_ again.

There was a tiny bit weird thing though. Remember how the Archdemon controls the darkspawn, like a queen and its hive? Before I came, the only thing barking orders was the Archdemon and there was no one to say no to him because the rest of the darkspawn were literally just mindless savages hell-bent on following the Archdemon's orders.

But even with the great physical strength the Archdemon had, all it knew was to defeat and dominate. Defeat and dominate, defeat and dominate, the same cycle over and over again. It had logic, it had reason, though it was severely dull in the mind and in thinking for itself. At best, the Archdemon was nothing more than a very powerful savage beast influenced heavily by dark ancient magic.

When I arrived though, and joined the mind hive the Archdemon had, it somehow developed a few curious...traits, for lack of better word. It began thinking, developing and efficiently becoming more ruthless in the progress. Apparently, while it was the Archdemon only doing the mind-influencing back then, now it was being influenced little by little by _my own mind_.

Well, wow huh?

Makes me wonder just how much I messed up the Blight in this universe.

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**Because the weirdest of things appear in my mind. Anyone want me to continue this? This is just a sort of test chapter anyway...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ah, the joys of being the bad guy...you get to be lazy...most of the time, at least.**

**Thank you to the new faves and follows and reviews! I'm glad people like this. :D**

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_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 2\**

The alpha and I were locked in a staring contest.

Or at least, I deluded myself into thinking that we _were_ in one. It started a while ago, when I was too bored to do anything else, so, I stare. Suddenly, I notice that the hurlock alpha was staring too. And so the impromptu contest began.

Sad, isn't it? No internet, no games, no fanfictions, no nothing except being locked prisoner underground.

You'd think after a decade that I won't be able to remember them but noooo, I still do! How could I not, when I dream of them every night? I dream of them so often, my memories sometimes flit in the hive mind. The Archdemon saw some of my memories once. He didn't really care for most of it, except for some of my knowledge about warfare, like those old movies about Hitler, the World War documentaries, things like that.

It was so...odd, seeing the Archdemon like that.

I remember walking on the fleshed-out walls when the Archdemon suddenly sent me a ping via our brain mail thing. More like a package of feelings and impressions about my first ever official mission.

Apparently, I was to 'infiltrate' the Warden's little group of misfits and 'help' them along their journey. It was sarcasm, of course. I think he means to mess up their little party as much as I want, as long as it was beneficial to the big family.

Maybe I shouldn't have shown him all those spy movies in my memories. Ah well, thankfully, he doesn't know that I know future events. He was just about to send more of the horde to Ostagar, where the beginning of the main storyline begins, and he said that he was essentially leaving me to my devices once he lets me go.

I ask him how I should hide my...excess limbs. Four horns, bone wings and spiky bodies are hard to hide even under a simple cloak. He seems a bit quiet on that for a while before he tells me that the broodmother will make a way for me to hide most of them. Hopefully that 'most' includes my horns.

Of course, I was perfectly fine with that until I remembered that the broodmother often solves problems through one way.

You see a stupid human, throw them in the flesh sac, broodmother will take care of it.

One of the hurlocks got an arm off, oh no! Hurry, put them in the flesh sac! Broodmother can fix it!

The genlock got half his head blown off but is surprisingly still moving! Throw them in the flesh sac! Broodmother knows exactly what to do!

One of the stupider alphas lost his weapon, but instead of going to the armory, goes to the broodmother for help. Why, says broodmother, just get in the sac and everything will be alright!

Broodmother(s) apparently think that everything can be solved through their beloved flesh sacs. Not that it works _all _the time, but seriously alpha? Where is your common sense? Where is your brain, for that matter? I know, it's probably half-rotting in that skull of yours, but do you have to go back to broodmama to fix all your troubles? It's like the broodmothers think that one key can open all the locks in the world.

And apparently, proves that the whole darkspawn army are merely (brood)mama's boys.

I scrunched my face up in disgust at the thought of going in the sac _consciously_ while I was still alive. I ask my dragon-dad if there was any other way.

He says no.

Damn. Looks like I get to go back to the flesh incubator. Flesh-cubator. Nah, flesh incubator sounds better.

I tell dragon-dad _fine_. But he owes me big-time. He only replies with a feeling of approval. I can practically feel it.

Archdemon approves (+50).

When I reach the broodmother den, I had to scowl when the nearest broodmother grunts so unladylike and uses one of her tentacles to lift me into one of the sacs near the ceiling. I cut off the tentacle holding me as soon as it lets me go but broodmother only gives another grunt, still eating some of the carcasses the hurlocks and genlocks were piling up in front of her.

I stick my tongue at her vindictively, knowing that she wouldn't really care either way, so I just close my eyes and tuck my bone wings around myself as the sac closes around me.

This is gonna take a while.

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**Yep, the weirdest I've written so far. Which Warden do you guys like to be in the party? Suggestions are always welcome! **

**Oh yes, and it's possible that I can put several Warden origins in the story, just not all of them. Like, if you guys want, I can put Aedan and Alim as recruits, stuff like that. Leave a suggestion if you want! Any feedback is always welcome. Except flames. Definitely except flames.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 3\**

Freedom, is the first thing I think of, the moment my hand manages to scratch a hole through the egg-like... sac thing.

The air was cool against my burning hot _normal-looking _hand. I managed to scratch my way out after what seemed like hours and I didn't care if I fell to the fleshy ground below. I just wanted out.

And fall I did, a few meters higher than I thought. The feeling of the cool air against my blistering hot (and literally new) skin was bliss. I let myself lay down on the fleshy floor for a while as my new ears and eyes tried to adjust.

This is just...damn. I feel like a newborn baby.

It took about half and hour before I could walk and talk properly without sounding like a deranged lunatic. The first thing I did when I managed to get up properly was to get to a mirror. Or a source of clear water, which is hard to find in this place. Hard, but manageable, if you know where to look, which thankfully, I do.

I took off at a straight sprint through the undergrounds I knew as home and by the time I reached the waterfalls, I wasn't even panting. I stared at myself as I stood before the water.

My skin was milk-white, almost sickly in comparison to the fairer shades of the nobles in Thedas. My hair was a deep black, dull in color but curled almost wildly until midback. I had something of an smoky-eye effect going on, even without make-up, which is, to be honest, kind of strange. My eyes were cat-like, a bright glowy silver, exactly like my dragon dad's before he was tainted by darkspawn.

Yes, I do know about the old Tevinter lore where Archdemons were tainted Old Gods. It was easy to piece when I happened upon shadows of an old memory in the hive mind, forgotten even by Urthemiel himself (my dragon dad, the Archdemon of the fifth Blight). To confirm any doubts the fandom might have had, yes, the Old Gods are true.

I'm dredging up what memories I have from my old life and combining them with the old Urthemiel's memories, so here goes. Urthemiel, my dragon dad, was apparently the Dragon of Beauty. He was revered as the most graceful of the Old Gods which is how he got the title. Various dragon cults, almost all tied to the Tevinter Imperium, had legends of him having a daughter called Urzara, before he became tainted. I searched his old memories if this was true but I couldn't find anything except a blurred image of a woman with dragon wings and a tail. Almost like me, except for the tail.

I don't know about you, but my name certainly isn't Urzara.

Anyhow, continuing my self-inspection, I found that my body was lean and toned, most likely specializing in speed and agility. And I was tall, at least 6"5, at most 6"6. I turned and inspected my back, definitely feeling my bone wings under my skin. I tried shifting it a bit and saw something under my skin move so I suspect I can probably pop it out if I want to. It's almost like having a giant worm swimming around your intestines which is quite disgusting.

I sigh when I realize that the broodmother had done its job well. I was hoping that it would mess up so that I won't be starting with my mission so soon.

I sense disapproval from the hive mind.

Sorry, I tell dragon-dad, but I don't remember how to be human. Can you _feel_ the sarcasm oozing from my words?

Dragon-dad tells me to man up and start the mission.

I hiss out some expletives at him before agreeing reluctantly. It wouldn't do to anger the Archdemon, dad or no.

I sigh to myself before turning back the way I came. This is going to be...troublesome.

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**All research regarding Dragon Age lore is taken from the Dragon Age wikia.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 4\**

Just when I stepped out of the Dead Trenches, I remembered to get clothes. It was a good thing that there weren't any dwarves near the Dead Trenches, else I would flashing them more than they need. It was probably just luck that I missed the Legion of the Dead when their next batch of troops appeared on the bridge.

Unfortunately, I had to walk back to scrounge up something to wear. It took me at least half an hour, and that was already with me going at my fastest. When I returned, I made a beeline for our 'armory' which was more like a dump ground to be honest. It took me about another hour to find a set of decent looking black leather armor which had seen better days. I ignored the medium and heavy armors, deciding on settling down as a rogue.

Scrounging up whatever fashion knowledge I had from my previous life, I decided to cut off about three inches of the leather top's tattered hemline. After a moment of contemplation, I decided to throw the shoulder guards back to the useless pile and removed some of the more annoying parts of the top. In the end, it looked more like a vest than anything, but I didn't really mind so I put it on.

I only stared at the skirt once before throwing it. I do not like Thedas's leather skirts. They are stiff, they ride up and they are ugly. So, no.

It took me longer to find something similar to pants. In the end, I only saw stockings, probably from some unfortunate mage, and I had to improvise on a decent functional skirt. I only ended up with a bunch of leather straps around my hips and thighs with a tattered black cloth over it, held in place by multiple belts crisscrossing over its top. I managed to find leather boots my size but they only went up until my ankles.

For the arm guards, I found none in my size since my arms were too thin. I ended up improvising by taking a pair of long black gloves and cutting off its fingers before using shortened belts to hold it in place. I didn't like how my forearms were defenseless so I got gauntlets in the smallest size and cut it in the middle in one side. Then, I used the belts once more to wrap them around my forearms snugly. I put on a elbow and knee protectors before putting on a tattered cloak.

It was the typical leather, belts and tattered cloth look. All I need is panda eyeliner look to pass off as a demon witch. For my weapon sets, I decided on throwing knives, daggers and a bow.

I found a set of small knives and hid them all over my person, and I also found a set of four identical daggers with red hilts and sheathes that looked worse for wear. I put two on my back and the other two on either side of my belt. For the bow, it was a shortbow made of some kind of dark wood, with patterns of intertwining thorns and leaves.

Thankfully, due to the hive mind, I knew all about fighting using different weapons. The hive mind shares its experiences and skill with all the darkspawn, so I was doubtless already a fighter. Convenient, isn't it? The only reason the genlocks and hurlocks don't fight using multiple different weapons individually was because their mental capacity for learning makes it so that they can only fight with one weapon all their lives. The only thing I lack is experience of my own, even though I already have experience based on the memories in the hive mind. Considering my passiveness before I took this mission, I might have to train more for my own experiences.

After checking everything, I decided that I was ready to go so I put on my hood and started walking.

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After taking a hidden path out to the Frostback Mountains, I decided to go to Orzammar first. When the guard let me in after I said that I was gonna buy some items available only in Orzammar, I knew the Blight hadn't started yet. I mean, I could probably check through the hive mind but I was quite aways from the main horde so it would take some effort to contact them via our exclusive brain mail.

Anyway, when I went in, I noticed a few humans and elves milling about. I guessed that Endrin hadn't died or been poisoned yet. I decided to walk around the marketplace before a random thought occurred to me.

How did Dragon-dad know about the soon-to-be Warden's group of misfits if he was only arranging for increasing the horde in Ostagar?

The only logical answer I could think of was that he had already seen my memories. And given that he hadn't done anything about it, I assume that he was still going to go with it.

Pairing that with the mission he gave me and the deliberate vagueness of its goal, I assume that he was going to be leaving everything to me. I mean, he only said to 'impede their journey'.

Well, what the heck.

Shaking my head and ignoring the merchant's prattle, I decided to just do whatever I want, beneficial to the darkspawn or not. Lord knows that I don't know what dragon-dad is thinking about.

So! I decided, as my first action in destroying Thedas, to tell King Endrin and his lackeys about the multiple secret passages of the darkspawn from the Dead Trenches to all around Frostback Mountain!

This is going to be fun!

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**So the Blight isn't _officially_ starting yet since the horde is still amassing in the Korcari Wilds. Just a note there.**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 5\**

**...  
**

Trying to get an audience with the King was apparently impossible for someone of my...social status. The guard took one look at me with my little tattered leather fashion statement just as I was walking towards the double doors leading to the Diamond Quarter before shooting me a dirty look and shooing me off. I didn't even get one polite word before I was kicked out. I wasn't even a foot close to the palace.

Actually, I wasn't even anywhere near the Diamond Quarter. These guards must be psychic or something.

To pass it off as a fluke, I quickly turned to the merchant near the doors and pretended to be interested in his wares. The merchant began prattling almost immediately. I absentmindedly made small talk with him as I scanned his merchandise while watching everything else out of the corner of my eye. Multitasking is something I'm good at, after training my mind for a whole decade of boredom.

Since I couldn't get anywhere close to the king, as evidenced by the psychic guards, I decided to go to the next best thing: the Princes. Of course, that required that I poke around the place.

Hmmm, maybe later. I'll go shopping first.

"Oooh." I tell the merchant, picking up this beautiful silver knife I found on his stall. It was the length of my forearm, with a black and gray handle made of something I couldn't identify with a silver dragon head at the end while the blade was curved and had an engraving of a dragon wing near the handle. "Where'd you get this?" I ask him, inspecting the blade closely.

"Ah, I just found it in an abandoned merchant caravan actually. The caravan was destroyed and I found it among the junk." he says casually. The implications weren't lost on me. Not that I minded anyone looting dead bodies. It's just survival after all.

"How much for it?" I ask, trying to remember how many sovereigns I got from the darkspawn loot. Safe to say, I'm well funded probably for a few months, stretching to two years.

He scratches his beard. "20 sovereigns."

I deadpan at him.

He pauses and thinks about it. "Then again, no one is much inclined to buy something like that. Knives aren't that famous to dwarves and it seems more of a decoration that anything. Eight sovereigns." he offers. "I don't think anyone would want to buy something dragon related in any way, what with the Blight and all, unless it's armor made out of Dragonbone." he adds as an afterthought.

I shrug and hand him eight sovereigns, hiding the knife near my back afterwards.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I say and he nods. I walk off then, planning on buying a new cloak. I find the shop soon enough, dark and quiet.

"Hello?" I ask quietly, slowly. The place seems almost deserted.

Wind seems to blow near the counter further in the store. "May I help you?" asks an elderly female dwarf dressed in the typical commoner's clothes, appearing from a cloth covered doorway. I walk closer, noticing the quiet steps I take. Probably instinct or something similar.

"Do you, by chance, have a cloak for topsiders?" I ask, unashamedly staring at her blind, milky-white eyes. What? I found her eyes fascinating!

"You are tainted." she says, and I had to keep myself from whipping out my daggers and killing her, so I settled for gaping at her.

"Pardon?" I ask dumbly before my mind reviewed what she said. I place my hand on the hilt once I registered that she _actually_ said that.

"How did you know that?" I hiss, my eyes flashing a dark corrupted purple for a second as I loomed over her.

"You are tainted." she says again. Her hand rises and touches my arm. I understood immediately, feeling the taint running beneath her skin.

I scrutinize her. "One would not think a simple shopkeeper would last for so long as a ghoul." I look her over closely, realizing that the thick make-up hides the signs well and the darkness cloaks everything else telling.

"I was sent here by the lord Archdemon. He allows me my mind to help you. I am not the only one. Many are scattered throughout Ferelden. They will find you, if you don't find them first."

Nice to know that daddy dearest is looking out for me.

"Help you offer, help I seek." I mutter, then I say in a louder voice, "I need to know where the Princes are. Maybe even the dwarf who's sister is sucking up to Bhelen." Because they were Origin characters.

"Prince Duran Aeducan is often in the Tapsters. The dwarf Faren is often doing jobs in the Dust Town."

I remember what I came here for so quickly browse for a cloak before throwing my first one to the ghoul and telling her to dispose of it and putting on the new one. It seemed relatively new, pure black with a few curious red splotches at the hem. I take no notice of it and put it on, marveling at its softness.

"I'll need to leave now. I need you to watch the happenings in Orzammar." I tell her. "You'll need to send me a message when the King starts his planning regarding an expedition into the Deep Roads."

"What kind of message?" she says, face blank.

"I don't care whatever kind it is, just make sure it gets to me as soon as possible." I don't think I would receive it through the hive mind, what with my link weakening as I get farther from the horde.

She gives me a nod of assent before I turn to leave, putting up my hood and walking away.

I don't make a beeline straight for the tavern since that would just be suspicious. Instead, I stop by a few more stalls before 'making up my mind' and heading to the tavern.

(Of course, as I browse some more stalls and find more and more fascinating little trinkets, I decide that there was and itty bitty bit of truth regarding dragons hoarding all kinds of shiny and fascinating stuff. Being a dragon's daughter—and wasn't that a strange sounding phrase?—I found myself hoarding all sorts of trinkets that I had to buy a bigger bag to make it all fit. The merchants are now well-acquainted with me.)

The tavern in one word: _disgusting_. In a smelly way. I mean, one whiff from outside the open door, you're already guaranteed to vomit. A lot. I would have if my stomach functioned like a normal human one, vomited I mean.

I tried breathing through my mouth. I swore for a second that I could taste it and I had to refrain from doing that again, choosing instead to hold my breath.

Dear gods, how can they stand this? How can _anyone _stand it?

I wade through the stands of drunk dwarves and ale-toting waiters barreling through drunkards. It wasn't hard to find the Prince. He was surrounded by nobles, all of them male, listening boredly to a noble who seemed to be ready to pass out. There was something princely about him, I admit, which was how I can tell that he was royalty. I wasn't referring to the typical blonde-haired (and blonde-bearded), blue eyed stereotype(oooh, and wasn't that a pretty shade of blue?), there was something about his aura, I can't put my finger on it.

Either way, I keep my hood up and make sure it covers my eyes, tugging it down multiple times, before inconspicuously (if you call barelling through drunkards and making a beeline for the prince inconspicuous) making my way to him. I finger the folded map detailing all the hidden paths around Frostback Mountains. I wasn't actually sure where I was going with this, me giving the prince one of the darkspawns' many weaknesses in home planning.

Hmmmm...maybe I can make a proper plan while I'm on the road...

...Nah, it's much more fun messing about with no particular plan.

And so with my enthusiasm renewed, I walk closer to the prince who seemed to be trying to escape the group of drunk and grabby nobles. Surprisingly, there were no guards for the prince, that I could see within the vicinity anyway.

I gotta tell you, excuses are definitely not gonna work if it's a very drunk dwarf you're escaping from, especially if you're royalty. Huh, that might be a good quote for the prince to live on.

Just as the prince was about to push the noble away (quite fiercely based on the scowl on his face), I interject with a quiet, "Excuse me?"

The prince manages to save face milliseconds before the push becomes shove and he turns to me curiously, fully composed. I never even knew that was possible.

"Prince Aeducan?" I ask, checking to see if he really was the prince.

One blond brow climbs up as he regards me curiously. "Yes?"

"Could I have a moment of your time?" I ask, not really knowing how to refer to royalty.

He nods, making up some instant bullshit to the nobles about forgetting some errands and taking care of some business. Afterwards, he stands and motions for me to follow.

We make our way out the tavern, with the waiters and waitresses making way for us on our way out.

Outside, we pause, looking at each other awkwardly.

"Thanks." he says, looking up at me. "For getting me out of those nobles' clutches."

I smile at him. "It is no trouble. You looked like you needed help."

"Yeah, well, with nobles like those, I definitely needed help."

Awkward silence.

"Don't get it wrong, but I really did need a moment of your time." I say. "Nothing so big or serious, just thought to give you something."

I rummage through my pack for the box I had planned on giving him. It was a plain wooden box with a few etches around it. Inside, I had put the folded map I'd created with the help of some ghouls back in the Dead Trenches. I had finished it even before I went to Orzammar. Beneath the map, I placed a gemstone I'd found deep in the Dead Trenches. It was a pendant with a jade-like oval stone encased in a lot of tiny intertwined silver metal braided around the stone and at its back. It offered a lot of magical resistance, though how much exactly, I wouldn't know.

Before the darkspawn settled down there, I assumed it was a mine filled with rare stones. When the Blight happened though, the dwarves abandoned the mines and never got around to getting them back. When the darkspawn army expanded and invaded more of the dwarven kingdoms, most mines were forgotten and the Deep Roads were abandoned, except for the occasional troops setting out to drive the darkspawn back.

In the years I spent underground, I'd come to learn how to find and shape the gemstones. It was actually quite difficult to find, what with the corruption sticking to the walls and covering every nook and cranny it manages to find. Shaping the gemstones themselves, I found easy after years of practice. The hardest one I've managed to shape was a shiny red-purple gemstone that I turned into a lotus. Took me months to finish that and the result is sitting smugly around my neck, hidden from thieves and money-finding bastard merchants.

I can now safely say that my fingers are stronger than my butt muscles.

"Here." I hand him the box and he runs his fingers over the crest of wings on the lid. "Consider it a gift." I say as he opens the box and lifts the folded map, seeing the pendant. "Since that's all I have to do, I'll just take my leave." I bow and leave quickly before he gets too curious. Thankfully, he doesn't follow me, only deciding to stare at me with a confused expression as I disappeared around the corner.

I leave Orzammar with a cheery goodbye to the guards and soon, I'm on the road to Denerim.

Best find out where I am in the storyline so I can figure out what to do next.

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**Did anyone ever wonder why there were no horses in Dragon Age: Origins? From the merchants, I assumed they used cows or something but that was the only hint of people using pack animals in-game.**

**Maybe they have no horses? (And isn't that the strangest thought ever?)**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 6\**

As I was on the road, I had to wonder just how people managed to survive the boredom of walking for hours on end. Walking, while healthy for your body, was mind-numbing. Painfully so. More so if you were on your own. Alone. For hours.

_Hours_, I tell you. _**Hours!**_

Disregarding the fact that they probably traveled in groups, people in this time must be resilient and quite determined, if they can survive days of traveling with only other people and animals for company.

"It's mind-boggling I tell you." I say seriously to the bemused tabby munchkin kitten that had been following me since the third day of my travel. "Do you think it's possible that Fereldans are tunnel-visioned? They must be if they can survive this atrocity of traveling!"

I had saved the kitten from a group of genlocks who were crowding it and generally being all monster-y with it. And by monster-y I meant that there was one genlock that was sniffing it's backside. I saved the kitten from getting killed and molested and its been following ever since. It also has a tendency to catch naps either on top of my head or on my crook of neck, squeezing herself inside the hood in my hair, which is where she is right now.

Either way, Squirt meows agreeably. _Perhaps so. Or maybe you're just a bit too scatterbrained._

"Now, now." I wiggle a finger in Squirt's face. Squirt's ears perk up as she tracks my finger. "Don't be so rude to the one who feeds you."

Squirt sniffs delicately, burrowing further in my hair and pulling at them. _I'm afraid you're mistaken human. You seem to be under the notion that you are the one who claims me. I do not regret to say that it is the other way around. Now, speaking of food, feed me!_

I sigh melodramatically. "Such kindness from my tiny traveling companion. Fine, we'll rest for now after I hunt something."

Yes, I'm socially deprived enough to talk to cats. Shut up.

Speaking of hunting, I'd been getting better with the bow. After getting a few helpful live targets in the form of genlocks and hurlocks, I've finally been hitting important body parts.

The first time I used a bow, I cut quite a gash on my arm. It healed quickly enough but it didn't heal well, forming a long puckered line along my arm, which I blamed on my not wearing my armor for practice. I attributed the not-so-well healing to the corruption in me.

After the first few tries with the weapons, I learned that knowing how to do it didn't actually mean that I _knew _it. I'd been sulky moments after that revelation. So of course, after quite a moment of contemplation, I decided to stay on the road a bit more in the company of some 30 darkspawn group. I trained myself so my ways were quite crude, but it works. Thankfully, I learned fast because of the memories of the others which I immersed myself in those few days.

My self-training took 3 weeks before I left the group and resumed on the road to Denerim. Of course, I was by no means any expert but at least my accuracy was well above average while my speed was only a measly average. I didn't practice with the only bow but also with the daggers I picked up. After the first few days of training, I finally managed to somehow get used to it and not stumble around like an idiot. The tiny throwing knives however, I have no idea how to use.

As to how I managed to compress years of training to a month, well, I didn't sleep and I kept my movements repetitive so that it stamped deep in my head and my body. It's not that I'm an expert now but at least I could survive in a fight and come out a winner most of the time, not that there's any big threat against me since I _am_ still part of the darkspawn's twisted family. As for my not sleeping, it's not that I won't sleep, it's that I don't need to. Probably something about my new body.

Anyway, after letting Squirt hunt, I decided to stick to fruits that I found deep in the forest. I didn't need to eat as much as other humans but I still need to eat a full meal at least twice a week. A scattered mealtime of berries everyday was enough to sustain me.

"You would think after a decade of eating raw meat, my taste buds would be dead." I told Squirt offhandedly as we sat beneath the shade of a tree. Squirt ignores me, continuing to eat the rabbit she hunted.

After a month and two and a half weeks later on the road, I finally reached Denerim after being appraised by heavily armed guards near the gates. I head to the marketplace first.

"Whoa." I breathed, looking around the marketplace. Squirt meows grumpily, no doubt smelling dogs everywhere.

Denerim in two words: lively and colorful, with people everywhere. While there was a permeating dog smell in the air, at least the liveliness of the people more than made up for it.

The first thing I do is head to a clothing store where I asked for shorts to wear under my belt-skirt thing. They only had leggings for women but I already had stockings to wear for my legs so I asked the bemused attendant to just cut a pair short.

"It's for under a skirt." I explain to her after seeing her scandalized expression. Squirt meows agreeably from her perch in my hood, near the crook of my neck.

"Oh! O—Of course!" she says, flustered. "I will just have to cut it and sew the hem close."

I wait for her to finish and pay her a good amount a bit bigger than she expected. She was very thankful and I got a simple long-sleeved red tunic as an extra. I try to give it back to her but she didn't accept it saying that it was also an apology.

Oh well. At least I'll have an extra nightshirt if anything.

With my hoarding instinct that I blame Dragon-dad for, I make a lot more purchases of tiny little trinkets that I found interesting which made me a lot of merchant friends especially since I paid bigger than needed. Hey, it's a good strategy for a reliable information network. Make friends with merchants who know a surprising lot of information. Even better if you do favors for them and help around.

And that was just the first day.

After my mini shopping spree, I decided to ask around the Pearl if they rent rooms, just to confirm if what was said in the fanfics from my previous life were true. They, apparently, do not rent rooms, says the receptionist of sorts at the counter. However, there was a chance that the mistress might agree so I asked her if she could ask for permission. Surprisingly, the mistress agreed, provided that I pay the fee and do some extra favors for her.

"We are no inn, you understand." the mistress says coolly with a pleasant expression. "Upon your stay, you will also be limiting the...work we can do by occupying a room which could have been used for our business. So of course there must be a bigger fee and perhaps a few favors from a young mercenary such as you."

After seeing the calculating glint in her eye, I had to wonder if I agreed too soon. Squirt doesn't seem to like her after all.

On the second day of my stay in Denerim, I stay around the marketplace and start doing favors. Rumors now start flying about a female rogue willing to do a bit of mercenary work for merchants. I get quite a few requests.

On the third day, I meet Goldanna at a playground of sorts. I was people-watching at the time when a kid bumps into me and falls to the ground. He was probably 9, maybe 10 years old. Just when tears start gathering at his eyes, I crouch down and entertain him, showing him a toy which I'd bought on a whim. When he clapped happily at my little show with the toy, I gave it to him, watching his eyes grow big and amazed.

I had wondered where I see the resemblance from, with the jaw, the nose, the eyes and the color of the hair.

It was apparently Goldanna's son, which I realize after Goldanna herself comes to me flustered and red-faced with embarrassment, apologies spilling from her mouth like a waterfall. The familiar features of the child were similar to Alistair's.

From her near-incomprehensible stream of words, I only managed to understand that she had seen what happened and got held up by her other child, which I now only notice was a younger girl hiding behind her mother's skirts, and is very very sorry about her child bumping into me, yada yada yada.

"Please, it was alright." I soothe her, waving a hand. "He was only child, and there was no harm done."

"Ya mama! Look, she gave me a new toy!" the young boy says, pulling at her skirts and waving about the wooden soldier I gave him.

Goldanna takes a deep relieved breath. "I am sorry for being so panicked." she sighs. "Not many mercenaries are quite as open-minded as you." She offers a tentative smile. "Thank you, milady." The little boy echoes her 'thank you' with a cute little bow.

I wink at the boy and smile back at Goldanna. "You're welcome. My name's...Zara." I made up on the spot. I took it from the name 'Urzara' because it was the first thing that came to mind.

She blinks at my giving my name but she does return the favor. "My name is Goldanna. This young man here is Gavin, and this lady here is Alys." Gavin grins at me and Alys continues to hide behind her mother's skirts but I get a glimpse of blue eyes and the same russet brown hair as her mother. "Thank you again milady. You have much of my gratitude." she continues, bowing her head a bit. "If it weren't for you, my son would probably have been in trouble with another mercenary."

I agree wholeheartedly with the mercenary thing. Just running into one of them makes me wanna skin them alive and take 5 whole baths afterwards, with how dirty they were looking at me.

After a few moments of regretting how much money I spend, I hand her a small pouch of silver coins. It was no big dent from what I have especially since I was earning it as fast as I'm spending it with all the favors I'm doing.

She sputters when she sees what's inside it. "I—I couldn't possibly—!"

"I'm better off than most you know." I tell her conversationally, ignoring her shock. "It's no trouble to me, and you look like you could use it, especially with your children."

I remember the game and how she was angry at Alistair and how they called her a harridan who was only after gold. I couldn't fault her for it, after seeing her children, and I couldn't blame her for her bitterness with Alistair. I knew the other characters only stuck to Alistair because they didn't know just what Goldanna had to do to survive. I couldn't see how they just looked past her suffering and called her names without asking _why_.

Looking her over, I made my choice.

"So Goldanna," I start slowly. "How would you like to learn how to fight?"

To say she was surprised was a massive understatement. She positively _gaped_. Alys's eyes grow wide and Gavin gasps excitedly.

"I only offer this with good reason." I glance pointedly at the children. She blinks and her eyebrows lower a bit. "And you can better protect your person and your children."

"But—! I—you—we—you only met me today! You barely know me!" she sputters.

"That is so." I agree, crossing my arms. "But I can see how important your family is to you. I can't say I don't know what that feels like." Not exactly a lie since I was referring to my previous life when I had four younger siblings. I don't remember their faces anymore. "I can see you're capable enough of handling things but against skilled people, you'll need help." I had noticed the knife hidden in her corset and the one tied around her thigh hidden inside her skirts. It takes a skilled eye to notice and I always was a stickler for details.

"Just consider it at least?" I offer after a moment of silence.

"I...I'll need to think about it." she says faintly. Behind her skirts, Gavin and Alys whisper excitedly.

We part ways soon after, with me assuring Gavin that I was going to be back at the playground at the next day.

That night, as I lay back in my bed at the Pearl, I frown as I try to recall an echo of a memory from my previous life.

Clear green eyes, a gap-toothed smile, and spiky black hair are all that I recall along with a happy greeting that was spoken each time I returned from work.

A four-year-old carrying a toy soldier runs to me as I exit from the car. A hand ruffles his hair. A beaming smile aimed at me by a bright-eyed young child.

_'Welcome home mama!'_

I close my eyes.

It was nothing than a memory.

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**I...did not really expect the ending. I just let my fingers do the work and this suddenly popped up. So yeah. I also did not expect the support I received for this story! Oh my gosh, I love you guuuuuuys~ -gushes on and on and on-  
**

**Sooooo...R&amp;R?**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

* * *

**/Chapter 7\**

As the weeks went by, I kept wondering why the events at Ostagar hasn't started yet. I mean, I know Dragon-dad has been amassing there but they weren't attacking. It's been four months since I left the Dead Trenches, two months and one and a half weeks since I arrived in Denerim and two months since I started training Goldanna and teaching the basics to her children.

On the second week of my stay in Denerim, I've been letting my hood down and stopped wearing the mask I've belatedly picked up on the road. It increased rumors of my fame and more mercenary jobs were offered to me, most of which were from a good number of suckers for a pretty face. I've befriended a good lot of merchants and we were close enough that they would be willing to help me in if I was in need.

The mistress of the Pearl, the lady Jasmine, came to me one time to thank me. My face was apparently a good advertisement for her establishment. They've been getting more customers ever since I've been wearing my mask down.

I turned down her offer of working in the Pearl with free training, as flattered as I was.

Goldanna and I became good friends. I learned that she has a habit to tease either her son and daughter or me. Mostly me. She was also very fierce when angered and lashes out with a very sharp tongue when she believes she's in the right. Thank the Maker she hasn't gotten angry with me. She can say some seriously hurtful words.

I told her that her tongue was sharper than her dagger skills. She slapped me on the back of the head for that quip.

As for our training, Goldanna has been learning and learning fast. There was one incident when Alys and Gavin got accidentally caught up in a bar fight. Alys got away with only a bruise on her side but it was enough incentive for Goldanna to speed up her training. She was decent already but there were still a handful of mistakes that she makes. She's impulsive and sometimes takes chances where there weren't any.

I've been remedying that by educating her on which parts of the body are especially vulnerable. I told her to fight smart and fast. So far, she has been learning if a bit too slowly for her taste.

As for my own training, well I've been improving by leaps and bounds. I've been making my own style that focuses on using the bow in close-range collaboratively with my daggers, which I gave a pair of to Goldanna. If you remember, I had two pairs that I pilfered from the Dead Trenches. Since the daggers in Denerim were either too low quality or too expensive to be worth it, I only gave Goldanna what I had. She wasn't even surprised by my admittedly strange gift-giving tendencies.

With my training, I based it on some styles I can only vaguely remember in my previous life. I think one style was based on something I saw in a movie. Lord of the Rings? Something about elves...

Either way, I've been getting better and that's just what I'm focusing on.

As for the darkspawn's progress, well I couldn't get a clear image seeing how far they were but I think they were still gathering numbers. Knowing how fast they can travel, I know that they have be a _lot _now in the Korcari Wilds.

I've asked around the marketplace and made friends with the merchants from Castle Cousland. There's been rumors of an army being amassed to battle something in the South. There's been no marching yet but I can bet that there would be soon.

What I didn't expect was for one of the young handmaidens in the caravan to say that there's been word sent to Orlais asking for a Grey Warden army.

"The Grey Warden Commander came to the Castle." says the elven handmaiden in a very serious tone. "A ser Duncan, I think his name was. He came to ask for another army for the Grey Wardens from milord. The other servers and guards are buzzing with the news." Here, she looks about for a possible eavesdropper before she turns back to me. "There's apparently been an army brewing there twice as large as Ferelden's own army. It's why they've asked help from the other nobles and Orlais."

I frown thoughtfully. It may be an exaggeration but I know that there really was a lot more than there was originally. I sigh to myself. Changes in the storyline was mildly off-putting.

A thought occurs to me. "Is there perhaps news from Orzammar?" I ask her, brow furrowed.

She looks thoughtful. "As a matter of fact there is." she says hesitantly, frowning thoughtfully. "There's been news of a thag—thaig?—being recovered. They've been sending missives to other cities for word of a female mercenary with silver eyes. Something about a reward."

Her eyes widen the same time mine does. "That's you, isn't it!" she gasps in excitement.

I grimace. Did the prince really have to increase my supposed-to-be non-existent fame? I nod to the girl and she looks even more excited, if that was possible. "What did they say about me?" I ask her, almost dreading it.

"There's been word of you everywhere!" she gushes. "Hundreds of rumors and stories are surfacing mostly from the dwarves. There's talk of you braving the Dead Trenches on your own and how you risked everything just to give a fighting chance to stop the darkspawn! Ser Duncan himself has validated the claims about you bringing a map to help the Dwarves but he couldn't say anything about all the other rumors. Just that it was your actions that led to the Dwarves taking back one of their cities."

It was that map. That _damn_ map! And Duncan saw that? Oh dear _Maker_.

I raise my hand to stop her before she starts babbling on and on. Her mouth shuts with a click. "Those rumors are way too overrated. Please just tell me about the important information."

She fidgets, her face turning a bit pink. "Well that's all it really is, I suppose." she looks up at me with wide eyes. "What are you going to do now milady?"

My frown becomes less pronounced. "I doubt I could tell you to keep that to yourself because one way or another, if the dwarves are really looking for me then it's a matter of time before word is sent to them. I'm surprised I wasn't noticed before, I've been staying here in Denerim for months." I tell her and she blinks in surprise.

"Is the Warden Commander still at Castle Cousland?" I ask her after a thoughtful pause.

She nods, her pony tail bouncing behind her. "Yes milady. I'm his attendant for the rest of his stay."

Well that explains how she knows a lot doesn't it?

"Tell him that you saw me here." I tell her and she blinks in surprise. I open my satchel and take out two maps. It was of the Dead Trenches and of Ferelden. I had mapped it as detailed as I can so if it unfolds, it can cover nearly a whole wall. As far as I know, there wasn't any comprehensive, detailed map of the Deep Roads before because of all the darkspawn. After staying underground for a decade, I did the map on a whim, tracing all the tunnels of the darkspawn.

Apparently, after taking over most of the Dwarven thaigs, the Deep Roads has been expanded by the darkspawn. There are already a lot of entrances hidden deep within the earth, all scattered across Ferelden and even in Orlais. The expanded tunnel system covered nearly all of Ferelden but most of it was clustered around the Frostback mountains. I couldn't map all of it clearly because most tunnels, if not all, were layered on top of one another. The map of Ferelden that I made had so many marks on the surface indicating the hidden tunnel entrances, it was nearly indistinguishable from each other, but still, all the marks I made were accurate enough.

I feel like an expert map-maker now.

I took the map of the Dead Trenches and the map of tunnel entrances all over Ferelden and handed it over to the girl. I added the dagger I bought in Orzammar with the dragon head on the hilt as a gift.

"Give this to the Warden Commander." I told her, pushing the maps and the dagger to her. "Tell him it's a gift."

Her eyes were so wide now, it's almost a wonder they haven't fallen out yet. I wonder if I should even try to reign in my gift-giving habits. I answered my own thought in a second.

Nah. People are happy if they have gifts so I give them gifts.

On that thought, I gave the handmaiden a simple pendant. "Here, keep this too. It's a gift."

She looks like she doesn't know how to react so I just push her and gently shoo her off, saying that the pendant was a thank you for the information. Then I make my way back to the Pearl where I begin packing what sparse belongings I have. Best I leave before people actively start looking for me.

I tell the mistress a hurried goodbye and promises to return, explaining that there might be people looking for me. I ask her to inform the other merchants and she graciously accepts.

I have my hood and mask up when I go to Goldanna's house. Squirt who was napping the whole afternoon away, wakes up with a plaintive meow and stretches even while she curls up around my neck.

"Goldanna?" I ask as I poke my head inside.

"Zara?" she calls out from the back. I enter quickly and make a beeline for the back room.

"I'll be leaving Denerim now." I tell her hurriedly when I see her braiding Alys's hair in her room. "There are people going to be looking for me. We can continue your training when I return but for now, you can practice on your own."

"Leaving? _Now_?" she echoes before she starts finishing up Alys's braid and glances at me from where I was standing in the doorway. "What do you mean people are looking for you? Are you going to be alright on your own?"

I bite my lip. "I may or may not have accidentally said something to people that made them want to reward me. But that would be kind of awkward so I decided that discretion is the better part of valor."

Her brow furrows as she braids the other part of Alys's hair. Alys herself looks like she doesn't know what emotion to let show on her face, "Is this about that Orzammar thing the merchants were talking about behind your back?" Goldanna asks.

My eyes widen. "You _know_? What do you mean behind my back? Wait—the _merchants_ know? Why didn't they tell me anything?" She shrugs at my dumbfounded question.

"I wouldn't know. But if you're leaving make sure you send letters to me from wherever you're going."

"Yeah, sure. I'll need to leave now otherwise so yeah. Tell Gavin I said bye to him, yeah? Bye to you guys! Stay safe!" I call as I turn and leave as quickly as I arrive.

I hear Goldanna and Alys calling back "Safe travels!" before the door closes.

I leave Denerim quickly but not before buying a few necessities like some extra arrows and a kit to take care of my daggers and a few more trinkets. Dragon hoarding instincts are quite difficult to ignore.

When I'm on the road, I scowl in the general direction of Orzammar.

"Very troublesome." I mutter to myself contemptuously before turning back on the road. It was nighttime already but I kept moving. I didn't really need sleep either way.

Let's see if I can make a temporary hiding place in the Brecilian Forest while people start looking for me back in Denerim.

I'll let things simmer down first.

With a sigh, I head to the Brecilian Forest.

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**Just thought to update this now while the idea is still fresh in my head. I've been thinking of adding an Origin character from each race and class, what do you guys think? R&amp;R?**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

* * *

**/Chapter 8\**

It took me a full week and a half, with a couple of snack breaks, to reach the heart of the Brecilian Forest. Take note of the fact that I didn't bother to sleep for the whole trip.

Sleep is for the weak.

Of course, I wasn't entirely sure if I was in the heart of the forest, just that I was in the forest. Hard to miss when you've wandered for a long while with a never-changing scenery of trees, trees and more trees. I went on another day of wandering the forest, looking for any markers, any signs, generally anything out of place. Taking in the fact that I know nothing of trekking in forests in this life and the past, I came to one conclusion.

I was totally and helplessly lost.

I thought about actively searching the Dalish. Then I remembered that there was something of a racial feud between elves and humans.

"Hello Mr. Dalish sir! May I inquire for directions through the Brecilian Forest?"

He growls and nocks an arrow.

"Never mind!" I run away, two arrows whooshing past my face.

Yeah, I probably shouldn't ask.

"This is so frustrating." I moaned to Squirt as we watched the sunset from atop an old oak tree. Squirt ignores me, burrowing into a little crook in the trunk of the tree. "How on earth are we going to get out of this place?" I slump against the trunk of the tree, making myself at home at the branch I was sitting on.

I sulk to myself for the general unfairness of the world before deciding to focus my mind on something else.

On one hand, I could sense the darkspawn horde a bit more clearly than before. I at least knew that I definitely went south. The sense couldn't have grown stronger otherwise. Trying to track the tug of the horde, I could tell their general direction. Being closer to the horde also made me revise some conclusions.

There weren't just a lot or even a lot. What was there was way more than necessary! It's like Dragon-dad was aiming for Ferelden and all the other countries surrounding it. The thought left a bad taste in my mouth. Thank whoever is up there that I had a decade to train my (unnecessarily) amplified emotions.

World War II anyone? I feel like Dragon-dad got too much influence from those documentaries.

(Which would mean that if the darkspawn did win, it would be all my fault. Now isn't that a happy thought?)

I sighed and did a couple of calculations. If Ferelden doesn't get the help it most definitely needs, they'll be wiped out in a month, two to three months more at most. If Orlais does come with both the Grey Warden army and another regular army, it would still be a massacre, 60-40 with the darkspawn on the winning side. It would take a miracle to survive.

So what's the point of me being here and messing with Grey Warden group then?

"There's too many things to keep track of." I bemoaned, dragging my hands down my face.

I was about to sulk some more when the branch underneath me moved.

On pure instinct, I latched onto the trunk with curled fingers. Squirt yowled and leapt onto my belt-skirt, claws latched on tightly. I ignored the tiny little pinpricks of pain on my thigh and focused on hanging on to the bark.

I yelped when something under my foot shifted and there was a creak and a crack and a lot of crushing leaves before an old earthy rumbly voice sounded through the forest air. Right below my foot.

"Such a forlorn tune for one so young. No doubt with a tale that remains unsung. I would like to help lest you think me a whelp."

I mean, whoa, wait, what?

"Ah! But where are my manners? I got myself lost in our banter. I am the Great Oak tree, and it is my pleasure to greet thee."

"I—um—hi?" I squeaked, cringing at the pitiful sound that came out my mouth.

Then the voice—the tree that I was sitting on_OhDearMaker_—chuckled. "There is no need to be frightened, young warrior, though I do wish you would descend to where you would be warmer."

"I...okay?"

I most definitely did not expect this.

I stared at the twisted branches offered to me—a giant wood hand—and told myself to get on before I offend the Great Oak tree. And so, I nudge Squirt into the crook of my arm and climb to the hand where some branches—fingers?—curled around me protectively. I got a free ride to the ground and it was almost fun.

After being lowered to the forest floor, I had to consciously stop myself from gaping as I looked up, up and up. And up.

Is it just me or is the tree actually taller than how they were portrayed in-game? I only reach his ankles!

With a great creak and rustle of leaves, he crouches down on one knee, peering closer to me.

"Hi." I blinked. Did I seriously just say hi like everything was normal?

He chuckles again. "Greetings to you too young archer. To meet an accomplished warrior such as thee is an honor! It is much too rare to see a creature such as thee, especially one whom from the horde is free."

My brows furrowed as I tried to understand his sort-of strange poetry. "Wait, free from the horde?" I cock my head sideways, feeling more confused. "You know?"

"Indeed I do." Grand Oak rumbles. "For, before, there was one you held a terribly likeness to."

I...had no idea what to say to that. He continues either way. "One of silver hair and silver scales, who smote the corrupted ones and prevailed; with bone-wings flared and sharp and thick, she spun through armies strong and quick."

"Silver hair?" I echo, remembering from the hive mind about the faint picture of Urzara. "Bone-wings? Urzara?"

Great Oak shakes his head almost sadly. "I know not of her name, for I only hear of her fame. Mayhaps you be a distant daughter-friend? An archer with a legacy to defend? Perhaps even one of her kin, come to this lands to see where she has been?"

I shook my head. "She was probably a direct descendant of the dragons back in the day, still pure and uncursed from this. I am corrupted, my father-dragon held captive by powers unknown to me." Isn't strange to talk like that?

Great Oak hums as if he was in mourning. "I see now I have slept too many moons, to miss in the air such a haunted tune. A song of death and corruption, one that will lead to our destruction. Or maybe you will sing a different song? Unlike your brethren, you can distinguish right from wrong. I'm glad to see that your mind is still free; it brings great joy to this old tree."

We both sigh, silent for a few moments.

"So..." I started awkwardly. "I...You—c-can you tell me about what you remember from those times? About the silver-haired one with bone-wings?"

Then I suddenly got an impromptu history lesson.

I think this may be the start of a beautiful friendship.

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**I...am not a fan of poems, or poetry in general. If anyone can offer better lines for the Great Oak where the words rhyme and_ make actual sense_ (unlike what I have there now), I would love you forever. Promise! I'll give you a sixteenth of my life!**

**Just wondering, but which characters in the Wardens' group do you guys think would get along pretty well with Zara?**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

* * *

**/Chapter 9\**

During my stay in the Brecilian Forest, I was...indirectly imprisoned.

By whom, you ask?

The Grand Oak tree and his other sylvan minions.

Truth be told, I did not know that the other sylvans were sentient. But apparently, they were and when they were hostile to me before, now they treated me like a queen. They allowed me to climb them, defended me when there were hostile presences to me and constantly hid me from the Dalish patrols.

I asked Oak—a nickname which he laughed at, I don't know why—why they were like that, but he only made a cleverly placed conversation starter and successfully diverted the subject.

I wish I could manipulate words like that. I really do.

Anyway! About my sort-of indirect imprisonment, I noticed it on the second week of my stay here in the forest.

I had been planning to head off to Lothering to gather news and any new happenings concerning the impending Blight, if it already wasn't one. I brought it up with Oak and he began telling tales and some honestly interesting history which I loved hearing about and before I knew it, I was putting off my schedule of leaving.

The next day, I was already packing up—again—before Oak takes me to a cave with all these gorgeous flowering plants and vines intertwined around crystal formations which glowed different hues of blue in the dark.

It was absolutely _beautiful._

The same thing would repeat the rest of the week. I begin to leave, Oak shows me some new wonder I've never even heard of in my previous life, and I was forced to stay. It eventually ended with me confronting the sapient sylvan and asking why.

"The existence I've lived is both long and lonely; a life where time drags by slowly. Would thoust blame me for my longing of company?"

And with that almost heart-broken, sad question, I found myself staying longer and longer until I couldn't remember what day it was since I first arrived here.

My only consolation was that I could at least easily keep track of the progress of the darkspawn in the south and concerning my letters to Goldanna, I could always just send with merchants passing by and headed to Denerim.

Goldanna only replies with a handful of notes, saying how Gavin was growing and how Alys had taken to the bow like a duck to water and how her own training was improving. The letters come sporadically since Goldanna often tells the merchants to tie it to a overhanging branch when they were in the forest. The sylvans help me find them since they were the ones who knew a lot about the forest.

Each day, the darkspawn has been growing more and more though it eventually trickled to a stop after a long while. Some nights there were sudden surges of their presence in the hive mind. Something like, surging forward and after a sudden decrease in their numbers, they would return south before another night, they surge north again.

I wondered if Orlais answered with the army that Ferelden needs.

Those surges were unmistakable, there was a battle going on. Ostagar was already attacked by darkspawn. I was twisted into knots, not knowing what I was going to do, not knowing what I was_ supposed_ to do. I wondered if the Warden group was even happening, with how many changes I was causing.

On a lighter note, my stay in the forest was fun and light-hearted and for a few moments I could forget the niggling feeling that I was supposed to be doing something. I've taken to wearing a crudely sewn knee length dark green dress with a sweetheart neckline and Dolman sleeves, I think is the name of the sleeves from my previous life, and with fingerless gauntlets on my arms for my archery training. I keep a few belts on around my waist to keep the dress from being too loose since I couldn't make it fit my waist properly.

It was something I tried making by myself and while the end result looked decent, if you look at the little stitches, you would see just how much a newbie I was at sewing. I had bought the cloth and sewing materials from a traveling merchant guild which passed by the forest.

They were as lost as I was on the first day I came here and after helpfully offering them directions, they paid me as thanks. I didn't accept the money and only asked for the sewing materials and for a free tattoo from their tattooist. Thankfully, they agreed and I am now sporting silver outlines of angel wings stretching from the outside corner of my eyes to my temples. It was quite lovely.

Staying with Grand Oak, I also noticed the disappearance of the hostility of the non-speaking sylvans. I asked Oak why.

"So long as I'm around, they will listen to my sound; as they've seen deep beneath the ground, corruption can always be found." he intones solemnly as we sat side-by-side on an overhanging cliff where we watched the setting sun. Squirt was napping on a hollow in Oak's arm, having just eaten a a hunted rabbit.

A few seconds of deciphering what he meant later, I said, "You mean even the sylvans fall to the darkspawn corruption?"

"Indeed, for these days the Lady spends more time with her charges, than maintaining the forests' marshes. And so it falls to me to lead, for I am the oldest who has come to be."

It was fascinating. So they lead according to age. Grand Oak was probably the next most powerful in the forest after the Lady which is probably why he didn't lead the sylvans in the game since the Lady—Witherfang—was in power at that time.

Speaking of, "How is the Lady doing?" I ask, looking up at Oak.

Oak hums. "She rests even as her hate grows once more, for her imploring is again ignored. The Dalish Zathrian attends the elves' plight, steadfastly holding on to his pride."

Elves' plight? "You mean the Lady gave them the werewolf curse?" Oak only nods a yes and hums again.

I was surprised. How long exactly, did I stay here? I mean, I knew the battle at Ostagar was already happening but if Zathrian was here then the clan of the Dalish origin character would have moved on north already.

I wondered if there even was going to be a Dalish Origin character. Duncan couldn't be everywhere at the same time.

The Lady and I had met after she heard of my encounter with one of her charges. It was when I was still wearing my armor and the caravan hadn't visited yet.

It was a young wolf, injured and away from the pack. Probably tried to fight the bears on his own but didn't win and ran away. I had helped him with a few herbs I learned from Oak. He snarled at me afterwards and ran back to the ruins. I imagined it was a thank you.

Afterwards, there were always wolves watching me from afar. The sylvans never let them get too close until one day, Swiftrunner himself came with a request from the Lady: a request to talk to me.

I only said a hesitant 'sure' before he was bounding away on all fours. I looked at Oak then, sending him a nervous look that belied everything I didn't want to say out loud.

Oak, thankfully, agreed. "I shall accompany you to the wolves' den. To let you go alone is not something I would condemn."

The next day, both of us entered the ruins through a different entrance directly leading to the room where the Lady of the Forest stayed since the main entrance was too small for Oak to go through.

When I was put down on the ground by a helpful Oak, I sort of timidly stood before them all. They cut a very intimidating image especially since the wolves towered over me.

While Swiftrunner made harsh comments and more growly sounds, I bulldozed my words right over him and bowed slightly to the Lady out of respect where we then made introductions. The Lady curtsied in return with a small smile on her pretty face.

Soon, we were sitting on a seated Oak's legs and chatting amicably about the various properties of the plants in the forest and the wolves had taken to doing their own business while occasionally glancing at us, more so at me.

"I like the forest." I tell her, the Lady, with a smile. "It's really comfy with the sylvans."

"And pleased I am to call you friend, one that I would gladly defend." Oak says warmly. We share knowing smiles with each other.

The Lady looks inordinately pleased with our interaction.

Too soon later, we leave and kept weekly visits ever since. Eventually the wolves warm up to me and now I can visit them on my own without Oak's support. We weren't so close that we would be snuggling up to each other on our sleep, but we were close enough to be allies in fighting against some stray darkspawn that trails into the forest. We don't actively talk to each other though. More of just staying in comfortable silence.

Oak and the Lady thinks its sad for me to be killing my own kind but they continue to show no mercy against the darkspawn and some occasional traveling groups turned ghouls after being attacked by darkspawn. Vaguely, I remember the ghoul in Orzammar and wondered if her message—if she even sent it—was lost or something.

A few days later, almost too sudden, the wolves come running in on all fours, saying a group of Wardens arrived at Zathrian's camp. The Lady and I stood up from where we sat on the floor next the herbs.

I did not understand at first until it registered a few moments later. While the Lady gave orders to the wolves to watch them, I had my own mental panic attack.

The Warden group, already here? Even though the attack at Ostagar is still going on?

What?

Without a word, I climb onto Oak's shoulders and we returned to our clearing, with me making plans in my head.

Now I really need to know what's going on.

* * *

**Yay for updates! You know, I'm actually really jealous of you guys for getting to be able to play DA: Inquisition. I mean, I wanna play so badly uggggh. Our pc is old though and we got no console so uuuuugghhh.**

**Anyway, R&amp;R?**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

* * *

**/Chapter 10\**

After I told the sylvans to not move in their positions in the forest, I sneaked into the trees close to the camp of the Dalish. I was thankful that they didn't make a habit of looking up because sneaking atop trees was something I'm not necessarily good at and I was taking a pretty big risk especially since I left my weapons with Oak. I was also quite noticeable especially with my pasty skin. I never got a tan which was a disappointment, if a bit strange.

I'm so thankful that I didn't wear shoes during my whole stay in the forest. My feet had gotten used to the earth and it's developed some calluses after I kept on climbing trees. Not to mention Squirt kept on playing with my toes.

I inspected the camp. It was bigger than I thought it would be, with the halla pen taking up a nearly a fourth of the camp. There were the little wagons the Dalish used—aravels?—scattered throughout the camp. There was a noticeable lack of it near the entrance though, where there were tents instead of aravels. It was quite obviously where the Warden's group was camped.

I saw a Qunari, Sten, standing strong and tall, facing the forest, obviously keeping watch. A blonde-haired elf, Zevran I think, was sitting on a log and talking with an elderly-looking mage, Wynne, reading a book. Morrigan was near Sten, leaning against a nearbly tree, boredly looking out the forest. Probably placed on watch too. A pretty redhead Orlesian, Leliana, was sitting with young dark-haired elf in mage robes. An elf mage origin? Surprisingly, there were two dwarves conversing near the tents, one familiar blonde and one bald. I recognized one of them.

Prince Duran Aeducan. He was wearing armor obviously made for dwarven royalty which is a bit confusing. Isn't he supposed to be exiled? What happened back in Orzammar? The other one, Faren I think, was no doubt the other dwarf origin. I could see the casteless tattoo on his cheek even from where I was hiding. It was a bit strange to me. Wasn't there supposed to be a caste problem between the two? Maybe they resolved it...

I took a moment to thank someone that I was wearing feature-hiding clothes when I met with Duran. This would be a nightmare if he recognized me, which is still a possibility because of my silver eyes. Hopefully, he won't immediately notice it. Hopefully.

I saw no sign of Alistair though, and I assumed he was with another Origin character where they were talking with Zathrian. So, I looked and found them in a secluded area, hidden behind aravels a farther away from the center of the camp.

I huffed in annoyance. "This is so troublesome." I whisper to Squirt who was on my left shoulder, hiding beneath my hair. She meows an agreement.

I had to carefully scale different trees while watching them all carefully. It was a bit tricky and I had to go back down to the ground and sneak behind an aravel to watch but it was worth it when I saw Zathrian, Lanaya, Alistair and two origin characters. One was obviously a human noble origin. He had dark brown hair, nearly black with the greenest eyes I've ever seen. It's a possibility that his name was Aedan Cousland. The other was undeniably of the Dalish origin, tanned with brown hair and intertwined leaves around his eyes, a Dalish tattoo. Theron, I think is the default name back in the game.

I focused back in the present, using my above-average hearing to eavesdrop.

"—with Witherfang, it is the only way I could think of." Zathrian's voice said.

"Magic?" The human noble asks.

"No effect other than to soothe the pain some. Herbs, well, most of them can't keep it down."

"How would we find it even? Based from what you said, it's probably hiding somewhere hard to find."

There was some crinkling of paper. I looked to see them looking over something on the table. Probably a map of the trails in the forest.

"We've made some marks on where it could possibly be but we only have one sure lead. We've managed to scout through most of the forest and found nothing but everytime we go through this trail," Here Zathrian pauses and trails his finger over something in the paper. "and this," He points to another part of the map, "It is almost certain that there will be werewolves and sylvans driving them back. I've talked to some of my hunters and they are all certain the the center of the forest is where Witherfang will be. There is no other certain explanation as to why there are more werewolves and sylvans there. That, and we found no other place where they could be."

The Dalish origin hums and points to something else. "What about this trail?"

"You'd have to go around the cliff, though we did have it checked. Still, it leads to the center of the forest and there are still too many werewolves there."

"So basically, you're saying that we have to bulldoze through wolves and hostile trees to get through to the center of the forest where Witherfang may or may not be staying." Cousland says, one eyebrow raised high.

Zathrian and Lanaya share looks. "Basically." Zathrian agrees eventually.

"Can't be harder than the time we looked through the Redcliffe castle basement to search for a key to get out." Alistair says in a joking tone and shrugs after he and the Cousland exchange looks. The Dalish origin just sends Alistair a dirty look. There's a story there, I know there is.

"Ah yes, before I forget." Zathrian says. "There is...a possible way to get more information."

Cousland makes a 'go on' motion with his right hand.

"During our hunters' excursions, they have been seeing...a nymph. A Dryad to be precise." Zathrian says slowly.

Whoa, a _what_ now? What did they just call me?

...Did Greek mythology even exist here?

"She takes the form of a beautiful human female, with silver eyes and black hair. We have been trying to communicate with her but she is protected, by the forest itself. Everytime we get too close, she is taken away by the sylvans and the forest animals attack our hunters. We believe she knows about this Witherfang problem."

Well that's just _grand_ now, is it?

"A...forest nymph." repeats the Dalish origin, looking awed and amazed at the thought.

Alistair looks at the weirdly reverent expressions of the three Dalish elves. "What's the big idea?" Alistair asks confusedly, sharing a baffled look with the Cousland.

"Nymphs were thought to be extinct by the old Dalish lore." Lanaya explains. "They were said to be holy creatures, taking many different forms of beauty. They were said to be the guardians of the forest and only manifest in dire times."

"Such as the Blight, you mean." Cousland says and both Lanaya and the Dalish origin nod a 'yes'.

"Will you aid us, then?" Zathrian asks afterwards.

"We'll do it." the Cousland sighs. "But we'll stay the night first. We've been traveling two weeks just to get here. My group needs the rest."

"Indeed." Zathrian nods amicably. "In that case, you are free to stay. I will inform the clan then, if you'll excuse me." Then Zathrian walks out. Lanaya stays back to escort the three back to their side of the camp, chatting with the Dalish elf origin all the while.

And me? Well, I got what I came for so I sneaked back out.

But seriously, forest nymph?

I snorted at the thought, flattering as it was. Squirt agrees with me.

* * *

When I got back to the ruins where the Lady and Oak were staying, I immediately told them about Zathrian's plans. The sylvans creaked ominously, almost threateningly and some of the wolves went all growly and stuff. Swiftrunner was especially loud.

"So he plans to use the unknowing Grey Warden to get to me." The Lady says, a fearsome scowl on her face. She was standing in the middle of the circular dais, surrounded by a lot of werewolves. I was sitting on Oak's shoulder, watching over everything.

"I can give them hints about Zathrian's true plan." I offered. "It isn't too difficult and I can act as if I really was a forest nymph. Do nymphs really exist?" I direct the question to Oak.

He hums. "They were more friends of nature, more of a close neighbor. We each took care of each other, like brother to brother."

I shrug. "Seems easy enough. I mean, you'd need to talk to them to give them the whole story, right?" I say to the Lady. "I can give them clues."

The Lady looks contemplative. "I suppose so." she agrees eventually. "Very well. Do what you must."

I smile. "Okay then."

Oak and I wastes no time making plans through the whole night. With the Lady's help, we decided to lead the group in a merry chase through the woods before they recognize the magic that forbid them to enter. Just a precaution, you understand. We still can't risk the safety of the Lady you know.

Afterwards, I would appear and lead them to Oak who will give clues as to how they can pass through the fog. Eventually, I will be leading them through the long way around the ruins if they consider talking to the Lady. If not, well the wolves will take care of that.

At the sunrise the next day, I lift Squirt to my eye-level and put her on my shoulder.

"Come on Squirt. It's show time." I grin and Squirt only meows back once before I was bounding out of the ruins.

Let's see if this plan works, yeah?

* * *

**I suppose it's more logical for the Warden and Zathrian to make plans in an aravel but hey, let's take pity on Zara.**

**Who do you guys think has the funniest lines in the whole Dragon Age series?**


	11. Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

* * *

**/Chapter 11\**

I am...amused.

So very very _amused._

I wanna crack up so badly I feel like I could fart.

Seriously.

Now why am I trying to hold in my laughter really badly while nearly falling off a quiet, unmoving and amused Oak?

They were caught. The Wardens, I mean. In our traps.

Right now, more than half of them were hanging by their foot upside down on one of the unmoving sylvan's branches. The look on their faces was worth the effort of nearly dying in laughter. Alistair's constant flailing was entertaining too. And the continuous remarks and flirts of a caught Zevran who kept commenting on the caught mages' legs.

At the first day, when they set out, it was Aedan (the actual name of Cousland) who was leading. It turns out that Aedan can't read a map to save his life and the rest of the group did not know about this little tidbit until it was mid-afternoon, which was quite strange considering how he lead the group through Ferelden.

A few annoyed and exasperated rants from some group members later, Aedan says imperiously, "It's not my fault the trees look the same everywhere I turn!" He was almost pouting which looked horribly cute on him.

No, I don't have a crush on him. Don't even think about shipping me with him.

Anyway, the rest of the afternoon, only a little progress was made when Theron, the male Dalish origin, was given the map and told to lead. They made it only a quarter of the way to the magic fog-thing that the Lady put up.

The next day, I was feeling particularly bored when they did nothing but walk and talk and occasionally fight some wandering forest animal. By the afternoon, they've figured out the magic fog but they still can't get through it. They camp in the nearest clearing they managed to find near the fog. They keep a wary lookout through the night despite Neria, the elf mage origin, and Wynne telling them that the fog wouldn't produce any demons.

Surprisingly, I only noticed it now, but Morrigan actually camps with the group unlike in the game where she always has her own fire and mini-camp. The group was also much more close-knit than I anticipated, with all of them often talking around the fire and laughing together like they weren't on a quest to save a world lying on the brink of destruction.

The next day, on the third day of their search in the forest, I decided to put in the traps on a trail that I thought they would be taking. Eventually the group fixed up camp and looked for a way around or through the fog by exploring the forest.

I didn't actually expect them to accidentally make their way into the sylvans' clearing where most of the non-speaking sylvans and Oak often congregated and slept in. The traps I put in there weren't actually the ones I put on that morning because they didn't take the trail I assumed they would take. The traps around the sylvan clearing was something that I just wanted to use for catching food, like rabbits and the sort.

And now while most of them flailed about and tried to get free, I was hidden in Oak's branches, trying not to giggle my ass off. The only ones who were on the ground was Sten, whom the vine couldn't lift probably because of his immense weight, Morrigan, who was scouting the area as a bird and returned to the group when she noticed them lagging behind her, and Faren, the dwarf commoner origin who managed to stumble back at the last moment when he saw the others getting lifted up. I'm actually surprised the resident rogues didn't see it.

As an upside down Leliana tried to free Wynne who was beside her and the rest tried to get out through their own ways (I mean, whoa, is that vine melting? Better not make Neria pissed off again...), I couldn't hold it in and let out one tiny little giggle. Because if I didn't, I would have farted and that would have made a worse impression.

One tiny little giggle was apparently enough to get everyone's attention.

There was a moment of silence where everyone tries to turn and send looks at each other before Morrigan breaks it.

"It seems as though we have a watcher." Morrigan says in her typical smooth, kind of lilting tone. Her eyes skims the treetops, passing right over where I was hiding behind Oak's leaves. "Show yourself, nymph." she then says, and Sten steps up beside her like a guard. The others who were hanging makes more effort to free themselves.

I take a deep breath and ready myself before I put on an inquisitive expression and make an obvious step forward, making the branch creak a bit beneath my feet.

Their eyes are immediately drawn to me as I carefully make my way out of my hiding place, sitting on the branch I was standing on a few seconds ago.

We take a moment to blink at each other. Then Neria, who managed to burn through the vine around her ankle drops to the ground.

I break the silence with a giggle when Neria sits up, groaning and rubbing her head. Morrigan just sniffs in Neria's general direction, no doubt used to things like that. Sten is stoic. Faren cracks a smirk at Neria.

"Hello." I say through my giggles, trying my best to tone down my laughing at their misfortune. "Can I help? You guys seem stuck." I grimace mentally at how girly I was acting.

Theron, I noticed, looks ready to faint even as he gapes at me. He opens his mouth to say something. "I—my lady nymph—we—err, I—"

"No, we do not need help." says Morrigan bluntly, eyes assessing me.

I decide to stick my tongue out at her, which she blinks at incredulously, before making a motion to the unmoving sylvan they were hanging from to drop the vines. All of them falls with a near-instantenous 'oof'.

It is seconds later when everyone is standing and armed, staying a respectful distance away from where I was. It says a lot about how they were used to confrontations when they stay behind Aedan and automatically let him do the talking. Aedan himself, says nothing about this, just taking a step forward and looking up at me.

"Lady nymph." Aedan bows, no doubt an instruction from Theron who elbows him and hisses something in his ear. Dalish customs probably. "I am the Grey Warden Aedan Cousland, leader of this group. We have come here for a quest and we require your assistance."

Then Aedan stands straight once more, looking at me fearlessly. I gotta say, he definitely has that leader aura.

Being called lady nymph just sounds so weird though.

"Help?" I ask, frowning thoughtfully and making it obvious that I was looking him over. "You're one of the race that enslaved the elves though." I don't know where I'm going with this but let's continue it.

Theron grimaces at this while Aedan only blinks. "I cannot speak for something my ancestors have done for I know nothing of their motivations. I am not my ancestor and I am not inclined to harm the race that I have befriended." Huh. Good answer.

"What makes you so different from the other shemlen then?" I ask, tilting my head a bit. Alistair mutters a 'you're a shemlen too, hypocrite' under his breath. Leliana and Wynne sends him a look.

Aedan thinks about his answer. "I...learned about their suffering. They did not deserve being driven out of their home just because of a difference in belief." he says eventually. I liked his answer.

"So if I tell you the werewolves were actually cursed by _someone_ and not by Witherfang, would you give them a chance to tell you their story?"

Aedan looks mildly surprised by this before he quickly schools his face into impassivity. "Zathrian says that the werewolves are mindless beasts. I do not see how they would be able to tell their story." That is a _very wrong thing to say_.

I feel a shot of quick anger go through me before I stamp it down. I was always quick to anger, as laid back as I am. "And I do not see how someone like Zathrian who hates werewolves with his very being even let the 'beasts', as you call them, speak of their curse." A curse that Zathrian himself caused, I added in my thoughts distastefully.

My suddenly-sharp tone makes them more serious than they were before. I don't let them reply to my statement.

"And here I thought you were open-minded enough to accept people for their differences. Physically or otherwise." I say almost wistfully, my eyes glaring at them.

"I don't think you deserve to get past that barrier." I state with a sunny smile even as my eyes scream hate at them. After all, they had no right to judge something that they don't know about.

I was probably being unfair but I couldn't care less for it at the time.

All I knew was that they insulted the closest friends I had.

With that final statement, I disappeared into the treetops, leaving them in the sylvan clearing.

* * *

**Yay, I updated! Fun fact: on the first concept storyline of Origins: the developers planned for the party members to get the taint at the end of the story so that they undergo the Joining after the Landsmeet instead of dispersing to their own businesses. Like whoa.  
**

**Question time! If _you_ were reborn as a vanguard, like Zara, what would you do first?**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

* * *

**/Chapter 12\**

I. Am. So. _Embarrassed_.

"I can't believe I just did that." I moaned to Squirt as I floated on my front in the river. Squirt was laying on her side, stretched under the sun and licking her paw. I was in the water, dress and all, deciding to take a dunk to try and wash out my embarrassment.

It wasn't working.

And for the record, I'm blaming my amplified negative emotions from being born a darkspawn. Of all the times to lose control...

I let my head sink beneath the water making my hair float to the surface, and around my face, like a halo of black. Oak leans over where I was semi-floating in the water, his great creaking making some of his leaves fall to the water.

"I do not see what the problem is." he rumbles as he leans over. I pop my head out of the water for a while, pulling my hair back to get it out of my face. "You were justified in ignoring their wish. They insult those whom you considered friends and you showed your loyalty through your defense. There is nothing shameful in an act of protection for they well deserved your rejection."

I sigh and place my arms on the river bank, letting the water push me to the shallow side of the river. I continue to lay on my front, not minding the mud staining my dress. I place my head on my arms and stare at the reflection of the sun on the river.

I was quiet for a while before I spoke. "I just don't see how he can trust someone like Zathrian blindly." I eventually tell Oak who slowly takes a seat beside me, stretching out his great twisted wood legs into the river.

I wonder how he, the Cousland, couldn't see the hate and near-senseless rage that surfaces on Zathrian's face every time the elf looked at his suffering warriors. How do you learn to trust someone who hates blindly and wholeheartedly without hearing the whole story?

"It doesn't seem fair." I mutter to myself as I sit up and stretch my legs out to the river water, much like Oak did.

"Life is often never fair. You also know he was not there." Oak says gently. "Perhaps, had he known what really happened, then you would have had a new ally to befriend." His wood finger taps the top of my wet head for a reassuring moment. It calmed me, at least for the moment.

I sigh again. "I know that Zathrian's son and daughter don't deserve what happened to them. But that was ages ago." I scoot to the side and lean on Oak's thigh. "The humans he cursed went through worse than _him, _after everything that happened. Witherfang, the Lady, is a great being but even I can see that she is tired. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that Zathrian would be ready to end the curse to save his people, but now...I think he's willing to kill them off just for revenge."

I burrowed myself as far as I can to Oak's limb. Oak curls his giant hand around my form, covering me from the cool winds.

We say nothing to each other, staying in companionable silence until I saw Morrigan, who shapeshifted into a raven and was hiding in the trees, fly away, presumably back to their camp.

I wait a few more minutes to see if there were any other eavesdroppers. There were none.

Oak and I share conspiring smiles.

* * *

"—seems that the elf is keeping secrets from us." Morrigan finishes off her report on her mission.

Aedan frowns heavily, taking in the information. Theron is obviously disbelieving but looks more torn between trusting Zathrian or trusting me. The other Warden origins look contemplative, murmuring with each other and it was the same with the rest of the group.

"Nymphs never lie." Theron offers tentatively. "According to our lore anyway. But the whole camp is loyal to Zathrian. He is well-known, even to other clans."

Morrigan sniffs daintily in Theron's general direction. "And are we to assume that your lore is trustworthy?"

"Well, unless you know anything else about nymphs, be my guest." Theron crosses his arms, scowling.

The two look ready to attack each other on the spot but Aedan steps in quickly.

"That is enough." he says, irritated. "I would not have us fighting unnecessarily." From the tone, it was obvious that it wasn't the first time a clash between the two happened. Aedan faces the rest of the group. "For now, we return to the Dalish camp. We observe Zathrian. If we see the signs, then we search for the nymph again." He eyes each member of the group. "Then we look for answers."

I grin from my hiding place in the tree tops.

Mission success.

* * *

**Yes, I know, this chapter is shorter than the previous ones, sorry!**

**So I've been replaying Origins and I'm just nearing the end. I just have to do the Final Battle thing, then I'm done with Origins (again) and moving on to Awakening.**

**What was the ending you got the first time you finished Origins?**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

* * *

**/Chapter 13\**

I...have this overwhelming urge to kill someone.

I can't really explain it but it's just this weird tingling feeling in my fingers that has me itching for my bow and arrows. That feeling of drawing the bowstring back and feeling the satisfying twang of an arrow was itching at me so bad, I've been scratching my fingers to try and get the urge out. Not really to kill _someone_ but to at least just kill someone just a teeny tiny, itty bitty bit. It was an urge that was very very hard to ignore.

Darkspawn urge maybe?

It did not stop me wondering either way: how to kill someone just a teeny tiny, itty bitty bit.

Everytime we kill someone, we kill all of them, their whole self, immediately. How do you kill only a small part? Amputation? Torture? _Something_?

Strange and slightly morbid thought processes aside, I really need to know what's been going on at Ostagar, and for that, I need the Wardens.

Back at the Dalish camp, the group was true to their word. Instead of doing their usual camping out at the forest at the end of the day, this time they returned to the Dalish camp continuously, keeping watch over Zathrian and making vague reports of progress.

I could tell that Zathrian noticed something was off, but he couldn't determine what it was. The sometimes-subtle-and-sometimes-not hints in the elf's tone as he looked for answers was a bit amusing, especially since Aedan kept up a polite and amiable demeanor during the whole passive-aggressive interrogation-but-not.

I couldn't be sure if Aedan and the others did find something strange about Zathrian since I couldn't be there as much as I wanted. This was because Oak was teaching me magic. Specifically, nature magic.

Now, now, before any of you get excited, I'm not a mage. What Oak was teaching me was something more of a different branch of magic. Knowing that not all kinds of magic require _actual_ magic was something of a wow moment for me. In the series, it was never touched up how different potions were from poultices. It was something like magicless magic, if you get my point.

The nature magic that Oak was teaching me was something the elves did _way_ before their slavery which was a really _really long_ time. It was something long forgotten which made me a bit hesitant to learn. It felt kind of wrong to be taught something that wasn't mine to learn but Oak persisted and here I am.

This type of nature magic was something like manipulation of nature elements. After the elves who learned the art died out, the trees, sentient sylvans from before, whom they taught it to passed on the knowledge. Oak was apparently one of the few who still know of the art.

It apparently also involved talking to plants and non-sentient trees.

From his lectures, I realized that it was something similar to Blight magic. Blight magic, as the name suggests, si something the darkspawn naturally have. It's quite hard to explain since the concept is quite abstract, even to me, but I know the Calling is a good example of the Blight magic. Corypheus, in particular, has quite strong magic when he was human which is probably why when he was tainted, his magic became very attuned to Blight magic which became a factor of his being able to Call to those who have the taint.

At least that's what I get from the hive mind memories.

Anyway, if Blight magic was something darkspawn naturally have, the nature magic that Oak was teaching me was something the elves and other earthen animals naturally have.

Which made it very hard to learn for me.

At first look, it would seem very easy. You just have to connect with nature itself by meditating and trying to forge and spiritual connection and then practice on the manipulation itself. It all relied on the connection. The stronger the connection, the greater the amount you can manipulate and the weaker the connection, the lesser you can manipulate.

I already had problems on the forging the connection part. I just had no idea what to do!

"Oooooaaak." I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "I've been here for hours! I don't know how to do this. I just—I _can't_ do it!"

We'd been in the sylvan clearing for hours. I was in my newly-washed dress and seated cross-legged in front of the river. Oak was walking around the clearing, probably tree-speaking to the other sylvans and stuff. I don't know, everytime they tree-speak with each other they just stare at each other.

I groaned again and let gravity take over. I stretched out on the grass on my back, my hands still on my face.

"Meow?" Squirt peers over my face, looking down at me curiously. I pat her head with two fingers. She bites my nose and I screech. An impromptu scratching fight breaks out between the two of us.

Oak just glances in our general direction before sighing and walking to another sylvan minding about its business. he's obviously lost hope at us.

This is the state that we were in when Aedan's group walks in the clearing.

None of them seems to know what to make of me and Squirt so they head over to Oak instead.

I miss most of what they talked about because of me and my cat's daily squabble and only register that they were there when Oak comes over and lifts me up by the back of my dress.

Then he tells me that it is now my responsibility to take them to the Lady of the Forest.

I pout at Oak.

Oak only drops me in front of the group.

I really need a better pseudo-mom to take care of me. And I haven't killed anything for a teeny tiny itty bitty bit yet!

This walk to the ruins is gonna be a nightmare.

* * *

**I...do not like Corypheus. I find him interesting though. Did you guys know that his true name is ****Sethius Amladaris and that he was the High Priest of Dumat, the first Old God? Dumat was the Dragon of Silence and when Sethius went to the Dark Side, he took the name 'Corypheus' which he took from his title, "Conducter of Silence' in honor of his god?  
**

**Yeah, I'm just a treasure pack of fun facts. So which Dragon Age character do you guys hate?**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 14\**

"Here we are! Home sweet home!" I throw my hands up wide open as I stand in front of the ruins entrance. I look back at the group behind me. "Welcome to some old desolate ruins in the middle of nowhere." Then I bow, just for the heck of it.

Aedan and Theron looks fascinated at the, admittedly, awe-inspiring forgotten piece of architecture. The elf mage origin, whose name still eludes me, is talking to Wynne, occasionally pointing something out on the ruins. Probably discussing it or something similar. While some others of his group don't seem that impressed, they still do seem to appreciate its beauty.

"Surprisingly looks well-preserved, for an obviously ancient surfacer architecture." Duran comments, looking begrudgingly impressed. Faren nods in agreement next to him, looking up at the ruins with his arms crossed.

"Human architecture, with a few elven aspects?" Wynne remarks curiously and glances at me before looking back up to the ruins. Neria studies the ruins beside her, scrunching up her face and tilting her head this way and that.

Leliana comes up next to Wynne, staring at the ruins as if she could glean its very secrets with a glance. "It would be quite the find for historians if they find this, I would think."

I shrug and look back at it. "It does seem human at first glance but there are a lot of elven statues inside." I suppose it would be strange to any normal Fereldan. Or any other person in Thedas who treats elves as less-than-human, I think. A lot of people would definitely think it strange that elves lived in equality with humans.

Aedan seemed to have the same line of thought. "Elves used to live with humans? Peacefully?" he asks.

I think back to Oak's stories and what memories of the outside world I can make out from the ancient memories in the hive mind. I also try to recall any and all Dragon Age lore I got from the games. "Of course. Elves were the dominant race on Thedas before humans you know." I regarded Aedan with thoughtful eyes, deciding to tell him later about what Oak had told me of what he knew about elven history.

Aedan looks honestly curious at my words. "Dominant? Wasn't humans the dominant race before?"

"In written history, perhaps." I conceded with a nod. "And it is always the winners who write history. Of course, after everything the elves' experienced, they most certainly weren't the winners. But way before the history books grew definite in their facts and even before human nations grew from small villages, it was the elves who were the dominant race."

I let my disdain appear on my face. "Of course, the Chantry's bigotry would disprove the very notion immediately." I frowned then. "I know for sure that Elves and Dwarves existed in abundancy before they first made contact with humans." Of course, Oak may not remember those days well, but he remembered enough.

I scoff and toss some hair behind my shoulders. "And the Chantry says that dwarves weren't made by the Maker at all. Well, _someone _had to make one didn't they? Just because some mage rebelled against the Tevinter and led an Exalted March against the slavers doesn't mean that she's wife to a god. I mean, for all they know, it could actually be a spirit that she met, being a mage herself. Then of course, the Chantry has to grow corrupt and idiotic and start making everything a big ball of very complicated mess. Bigoted morons, the lot of them."

I honestly didn't mean to offend Leliana but from the look on her face, she was offended otherwise. Oh well, not everyone can be happy.

I faced the group fully, leaning on one leg and crossing my arms, all the while looking to the clear skies. " In the earliest days I can remember, it was elves who were the predominant race on surface land and dwarves in the underground." I squint, mentally trying to make out one particularly hazy memory. Something about elves shying away from human contact. "Humans came on later. The word 'shemlen' was not a derogatory term back then, having meant 'quick child', I think, as a reference to the shortness of human lives. Eventually, after elves made peace with humans, they noticed that their lives became as quick as theirs. For the first time, elves aged and died. This was the reason, they stayed away from the growing human cities. The Tevinter Imperium misunderstood the elves' staying away as hostility and started waging war on Arlathan."

I shrugged. "You know how it went afterwards. Elves became slaves, darkspawn came and invaded everywhere. The Dwarven Empire crumbled to near-nothing and it goes on and on and on."

My little audience looked enraptured at my very long explanation. I suppose it's not often that someone knows something of unrecorded history, though why they would believe something that a stranger said is somewhat odd.

"So..." I started a bit awkwardly, now that I wasn't discussing something potentially life-changing. "I'll be your guide through the ruins but the Lady still wants you guys to prove your worth."

I fidget in place as some members of the group get this tired, exasperated looks on their faces.

"Please tell me it's not a hunt for some useless thing again." Alistair grumbles to Aedan who was wearing this long-suffering look on his face. Even Sten looked resigned.

"No no! Not at all. There'll be no hunts of any sort. " I quickly wave my hands no. "Once we enter the ruins, there would be traps everywhere, including maybe a few quick skirmishes with a handful of werewolves—whom you were to not kill, injure perhaps but not kill, Lady's orders—and the Lady wants to see if you can prove your worth by umm, 'conquering' the traps." I made air quotes at the word conquering. "Of course, I'll take an alternate route and still serve as a guide in case you guys really need help."

There were grumbles of assent throughout the group before we all made our way to the ruins' entrance.

For a moment, I had to wonder why the Lady even bothered. These were experts after all. If anything, it seemed more like a jibe at how their rogues went and got caught at my inadvertent traps a few day back (when they all hung upside down tied to a sylvan). The Lady had this smug quirk of the mouth when she learned about the incident.

I shrugged to myself as I ran ahead to the ruins interior.

Meh. The Lady was probably just bored.

Let's see how they flounder through this.

* * *

**Fun fact of the day: when the game was still in development, Andraste was first named Augusta. There was also a matter of debate whether Shartan and Andraste were lovers during the Rebellion (and wasn't that scandalous?). In Inquisition, party banter suggests that Andraste was a redhead but artworks suggested that Andraste was blonde. Which would look better? Hmmmm...**

**Question of the day: what are your guys opinions of the Tevinter Imperium in Dragon Age lore/history? Personally, I think their too warlike and violent and oppressive. I mean, they attacked the elves simply because they were stand-offish and took them as slaves. Ugh, evil people.**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 15\**

If there was one thing I missed right now from Earth, (and I missed a lot of things like toilet paper, my strawberry shampoo, decent panties...) it was pizza. Pizza and some fuzzy drink. I loved eating those during movie marathons with the family and what I was watching now was definitely movie-worthy.

"You'd think after adventuring through most of Ferelden, they'd be able to tell apart the vines that were part of a trap and the vines that weren't." I comment to Swiftrunner who watched silently beside me, crouched low with golden eyes watching the Wardens' every move.

If you knew Swiftrunner well, you would be able to tell that his twitchy snout and slight quirk of the corner of his lip was a definite sign of amusement. My own mirth was clearly displayed in both my tone and my face, with my mouth permanently smiling wide. A few occasional giggles escape then and now.

I couldn't help it. Their rogues' incompetence was astounding and deliriously funny. After the tenth time Zevran got hung upside down by some spider web (how the Lady managed to control those critters is beyond me), they all decided to stare at _everything_ in the hallway and see if they can catch hints of a trap.

They did spot a lot more after that. Or rather, it was Faren who spotted most of it. He seemed to be the most competent at the spotting and disarming of traps. Next was Leliana, helped by her archer eyes. She knows next to nothing about disarming it though.

And Zevran kept complaining on how he was an assassin, not a trapper after the fifth reprimand to be careful.

For a moment, I wondered why they had so much difficulty so I asked Swiftrunner. "When they make their traps, they use their own tools, triggers and rope and hide it within the foliage." he growls lowly, haltingly. "Here, the traps _are_ the foliage. The roots are the triggers and the vines are the rope. There is too much foliage to sort through if they want to disarm everything." Well that certainly explains a lot. I expected better from them to be honest, I mean, this is the Warden group.

They bull-headed their way through most of the traps. At one point, I think even Wynne was willing to leave Zevran hanging just to get on with it. Thankfully, Neria, the elf mage origin (I finally know her name!) apparently had a heart of gold and decided to tail Zevran so she could burn the vines the moment they touch the assassin's ankles. Of course, it also meant that Zevran often got mild burns on his ankles. He kept playing it up, dramatizing on how he was getting burned from the 'burning passion of Neria's love'. I saw Alistair snickering near the back.

With Neria's short reddish-brown hair, big brown eyes and cute freckled face, you wouldn't think that she also had a temper as bright as the sun but quick as a flame on a match. The dressing down she gave Zevran was solid proof of that. So was the black eye the assassin now sported.

I think Zevran's scared of her now.

Thankfully, they didn't kill any of the werewolves who attacked them. Those werewolves, according to Swiftrunner, was actually the ones who did not agree to the Wardens meeting with the Lady face-to-face. The Lady allowed them to test the Wardens on their own ways, their own ways ranging from making even more traps and leading the group to a merry chase round and round the halls and to just outright attacking them in mini skirmishes scattered throughout the ruins.

The weres, once defeated, were thankfully graceful in accepting their defeat, slinking back to the Lady. Most still weren't convinced though, which was a pity.

One of the weres who passed by said that the Lady was waiting patiently at her usual place. Swiftrunner gave a single nod and we watch as the were bounds to wherever he was going.

I glanced back at the Warden group traversing carefully around a giant root in the middle of the hallway and I stood up, as silent as I can be with my bare feet. I pat Swiftrunner's shoulder and say, "Let's just go back to the Lady. One of the watch-wolves will be here."

He takes a moment to contemplate before he acquiesces, following me as I run back through the cramp alternate route we stayed in to return to where the Lady was.

We reach the chamber within a minute, appearing on the half-destroyed doorway on the second floor on the side of the chamber. I'm guessing that it once had stairs leading down to the dais but the stairs had collapsed and was replaced by a series of intertwined roots that you could easily climb on. There was no sign of the doorway in the game so I chalked it up to it being one of the main differences of the elven ruins between the real life and the game versions.

Swiftrunner leapt to the floor, deliberately ignoring the root-stairs, and landed gracefully on all fours. Immediately, he made his way to the Lady who was talking to Oak near the entrance. I waved at them when they looked in my direction. I climbed down the roots as quickly as I can and ran to Oak who was sitting down next to the Lady. I could see Squirt napping in one of the hollow parts of Oak's bark, her little ginger tail hanging out.

I give Oak a little wave before turning to the Lady. "They're coming. A bit slow but they're getting closer, probably in a few minutes. They'll appear any time now." I report dutifully to her, brushing off what dirt I can on my green dress.

The Lady nods in both thanks and acknowledgement before turning back and walking to the dais. She talks to Swiftrunner in hushed tones and Swiftrunner growls something to the other weres that has them growling back and crowding to the Lady in return. Swiftrunner then runs out of the chamber with a handful more weres, most likely to escort the Warden group to the Lady.

I turn when I hear Oak stand up. He obligingly offers his hand and I climb up to his shoulder on my usual place.

I ask the question that's been burning through my mind for a while now. "Do you think this confrontation will be peaceful?" I ask quietly, looking to Oak.

Oak takes a while to answer. "I cannot truly say what will happen soon though I do hope that they listen to what Zathrian has done. However, if they aim to injure the Lady, then we will not show mercy." Oak says the last part darkly, punctuated by the angry guttural growls of the weres at the thought.

We were quiet then, waiting patiently for the arrival of the Wardens. It wasn't too long before my sensitive ears heard the steps of the group on the chamber before us. The atmosphere turned up a notch as the weres became even more tensed, anticipating the arrival.

It was barely a few moments before the door opens and Swiftrunner walks in on all fours, followed by the Warden group who was surrounded by the other weres Swiftrunner took with him.

The tension grew palpable as both sides appraised each other. No one on our side seemed calm except for the Lady and me. Even Oak was stiff with tension. The other sylvans were completely still. Most of the Warden group had hands on their weapons. Faren, Zevran and Leliana looked calm but their twitching hands betrayed their wariness. The mages were shifty, especially Neria who looked mighty uncomfortable. Alistair kept glancing at the weres with slightly narrowed eyes and the mabari at his side was growling quietly. The only ones who looked relatively calm was Sten, Aedan and Duran who seemed to have the most experience with this diplomatic meeting and stuff.

I felt uncomfortable, shifting myself closer to Oak, almost hiding in his branches. I couldn't deal with tension well. If I was on the receiving end maybe, but not in between.

There is more growling among the weres as the Lady steps forward, a good few meters away from Aedan who was in front of the Warden group.

I watch the impending confrontation quietly, hoping that this won't break out into a fight.

* * *

**Confrontation next chapter! So I went back to Chapter 8 &amp; 9 and edited out some of Oak's dialogue. Credits to **_Lord Zant the Usurper King _**for the edits!**

**Fun fact of the day: blood magic was said to originate from Archon Thalsian, a Dreamer or a person who can enter the Fade at will (like Solas), who had claimed to have learned the art from the Old God Dumat. However, mages from the Imperial Chantry claims that the art of blood magic actually came from ancient elves of Elvhenan.**

**Question of the day: What is your stance on the use of blood magic? It just made me wonder after my chat with **_Mizuki00_ **about the mages' use of blood magic. Personally, I think that blood magic is useful, incredibly so. It's just that the general stereotype that blood magic summons demons and everything evil is stopping everyone from doing it. It's not just it's only use though is it? It can be used for good too, everyone just keeps abusing it for some reason.**


	16. Snippets of the Timeline That Never Was

**Now, before we get any further in this chapter, I have an announcement to make.  
**

**I'm gonna have to put down this fic.**

**Before anyone starts blubbering, I am still continuing this fic (or at least its plot bunny), I just have some major changes to make. Basically, I'll be rewriting the whole thing.**

**After finding out the events in Inquisition, I realized that some of my already planned out major plot points had to be changed to fit the timeline better. I didn't want to work around what I already have since I wanted this fic to follow most of the timeline and I didn't want to end it around the Origins/DAII timeline then I'll just make a sequel focusing on events around Inquisition. I had wanted this fic to follow at least a majority of the events of the Dragon Age series. Besides that, several revelations were revealed in Inquisition (coughSolascoughMythalcoughSoMuchSpoilerscough) that affected major parts of the timeline I had already planned out. Hence, the rewriting.  
**

**Now, the scenes I have below are snippets of the original timeline I already had. Take note that not all the scenes happen right after each other. They're just snippets. Since it seemed like a shame to get rid of all my story doodles, I decided to just post them here. Think of it as a tribute to honor the timeline that never was.**

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_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Dragon Age! I only own this story and my little female vanguard~_

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**/Chapter 16\ (supposed to be the next chapter)  
**

The confrontation itself went much like what originally happened in-game, though with much more tension and a lot more questions on the Warden's part. They were, surprisingly, very deep and soulful questions. Questions you could consider to be up there along with the questions about life and death.

No, actually, I don't know anything about it. I felt bored halfway through the confrontation and ended up daydreaming for the rest of it. All I knew was that at the end, the Lady looked much more content than I had first seen her and Aedan was more than willing to help her cause.

By now, I knew that Aedan and the Lady were focused more on idle chatter and the rest of the Warden group was a bit more relaxed now. I could see Neria and Leliana talking easily with one of the most recently turned female Weres. While there were still pockets of angry, disapproving Weres, some at least seemed to be a bit more willing to give the Wardens a chance.

Surprisingly, even Swiftrunner was, begrudgingly, willing to give them all a chance. I was not under the illusion that he was doing it for their sake. The Lady's quiet, formidable glare behind the Warden's back straight to a contrite Swiftrunner was proof of that.

* * *

**-**_After completing the Dalish quest, the group returns to Redcliffe to restock only to find Duncan waiting for them. The Calling had grown stronger and Duncan has already left the title of Warden-Commander to Aedan, deciding afterwards to join the group to Orzammar and answer his Calling in the Deep Roads. Before heading off to Orzammar, the group heads off to Denerim so that Duncan can take care of some legal matters regarding Aedan's new title. The group stops by Soldier's Peak to upgrade some of their armor and weapons and Duncan speaks to Avernus regarding the Calling. Avernus offers a temporary solution to extend Duncan's life and stave off the calling for a while further but Duncan disagrees, deciding to continue on to Orzammar. Avernus also finds out about Zara's true nature but decides not to reveal it to any of her companions, instead requesting for a chance to study Zara. Zara allows it but only in a very limited manner of studying and leaves with the group even when Avernus was not finished yet._

_Upon arriving in Orzammar, Bhelen almost immediately shuns the group after seeing Duran still alive, but only Duncan's appearance staves off further action against the exiled prince. ___Upon knowing the problems regarding Orzammar's missing leader and their inaction until a dwarf with the support of a Paragon is put on the throne, the group convenes and after a few arguments, decides to support Bhelen despite some of group's disapproval of the choice. _Duran also proposes that they find his twin sister, Sereda, who had been banished with him in the Deep Roads to join their group once it was decided that they would head off to the Deep Roads to find Branka._

_After traveling with the group under the pretense of 'seeing the world', Zara develops close ties of friendship with the members of the travelling party despite the short time they have spent with each other. She gets particularly close with Aedan, never knowing the strength of his feelings for her..._**  
**

**/Dead Trenches scene 1\**

Journeying through the Deep Roads was...nostalgic. It had been a while since I last breathed that permeating darkspawn smell. It wasn't particularly pleasant but it was a homely smell still.

"I don't like this place." Theron declares suddenly, his brown eyes shifting about. He was tense, as taut as his own bowstring. The other Wardens murmur an agreement and the rest weren't faring any better. Even Aedan's normally calm countenance was gone.

"How can you be so calm here?" Neria complains after seeing me dart across the walkway again to the opposite wall. In truth, I was examining the earthy walls, trying to figure out where we were in the Deep Roads. I wasn't too trusting of Aedan's sense of direction.

"I don't know." was all I said when everyone seemed to focus in on me for my answer. "It feels like...something's calling me." I answer honestly. Of course, that something was the Archdemon who returned to the Dead Trenches after attacking Ostagar but they don't need to know that.

The group share wary looks. Especially the Wardens. Duncan, who had been quiet our whole journey, looked alarmed. "The Deep Roads have been occupied by darkspawn and nothing else." he says. "There is no way that anything else could be calling to you." Aedan, in particular, looks alarmed by Duncan's words, sending looks towards the previous Warden-Commander.

I don't answer. I only look off somewhat dazedly onwards. I could feel the heart of the horde getting closer. We were already on the edges of the main horde. Dragon-dad's voice was clear in my mind and he was approving of my actions. He almost seemed...proud.

Well, that was mildly terrifying.

* * *

**/Dead Trenches scene 2\**

The fire we created in camp was weak. It was just enough for all of us to huddle up and keep warm. There were double watches and everyone always went with someone. Even now, their talks near the fire were quiet, subdued. I stayed further away into the Roads, just far enough that it was dark but near enough that they wouldn't be panicking. I sat right in the middle of the Road, feeling for the darkspawn near our vicinity.

Further into our walk to the Dead Trenches, I had been growing more and more distant from the group, lapsing into silences, staring off towards where I knew my Dragon-dad was, and generally being distant. I could tell they were worried, Aedan and Duncan more so.

I felt slightly guilty about worrying them so much but it was best this way.

I remembered the plan. The Archdemon had told me to return to the horde, to leave the group and reclaim my old body. He wanted to launch a final attack with me back in the horde. I wasn't sure how to react. I couldn't say no, not when the mental link was stronger than ever and I didn't fancy the Archdemon controlling my body without my permission. I had no choice but to obey.

I may have free will, but I am still darkspawn and it violated my very nature to disobey the Archdemon.

I wondered how I would leave. It would probably be after getting to Caridin. I could at least help them until that. I could get lost deliberately and return on my own to the horde but I didn't doubt the group's loyalty. I was sure they would backtrack and look for me (and find me too, most likely, the stubborn idiots that they are), despite Aedan's lack of sense of direction. They were strange that way.

I might have to show them my true nature, to show them that I had 'lost my mind' so that they would be convinced to leave me.

I wondered if Avernus might be able to find a way cut off the link.

"Are you alright?" Neria's voice cut off my morose thoughts. I looked up at the young mage and blinked my eyes at her. I shrugged. Neria sits down beside me and looks into the dark where I had my eyes on. We were silent for a while before she spoke.

"They're worried about you, you know." she says, not looking at me. "It kind of feels like...you're avoiding us."

I don't answer. Neria presses on. "Is it because...of the voices?" she asks softly. "When you said you heard someone calling you...is it because of them?" Neria leans in a bit closer. "Please Zara. You're scaring us. Why won't you talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about." My words came off harsher than I wanted it to. "There's nothing there. There's no voices, okay? There's nothing. Nothing."

Neria was silent for a while. Then she suddenly stood up and hugged me, before fast-walking back to camp. I couldn't say anything about the wetness I felt on my cheek when she hugged me.

It hurt staying away. But I really had no choice.

* * *

**/Dead Trenches scene 3\**

"Zara."

I didn't turn when I heard Aedan's voice. I knew I had freaked them out. I stood right in front of the darkspawn and did nothing. I knew they wouldn't harm me, but they had freaked out. Even more so when all the emissary did was stand and examine me very closely.

"Zara, we need to talk." Aedan's words were clipped and grave. He was angry. Very angry.

I didn't react when Aedan grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me off into a more secluded part of the cavern.

"Zara, we need to talk." was the first thing he said. I didn't do anything, only stand still and stare blankly at his armor. "Zara, please, you have to speak to us about it. What is it saying?" Aedan's tone betrays his desperation. "Zara, what is the Archdemon saying?"

Aedan touches my cheek, frames my face with his bare hands. Vaguely, I wonder when he removed his gauntlets. He leans down until he's nearly eye to eye with me. I see his green eyes and see the worry in them, the hidden fear. And I felt absolutely evil.

I start the act and force tears to appear.

I was scared, a little, but I was angry more. The Archdemon knows, the group had become family to me. He was angry at me, once he saw my thoughts about them, angry that I had become attached. Little by little, every day, every hour, every minute, every second, I could feel myself succumbing to his will. He was gaining control of my body, little by little. I tried fighting it and I was barely winning. Barely, but still winning. And I wasn't about to lose.

Every time we encountered darkspawn, I stayed far. Just last time, when I fought with Alistair by my side, I nearly slipped in my control. All it took was one sudden jerk of my arms by the Archdemon and my arrow was pointing at Alistair's back. I regained control just in time before the my fingers let go. The other time, I nearly hit Wynne in the leg when I slipped again.

"I'm scared, Aedan." I hiccup, feeling rotten for acting so distraught and making him worry more. "I'm losing control. He's taking over, slowly. So slowly." I grip his hands framing my face. "He's angry. He wants to kill you all. I don't want to kill you." I was steadily crying now, sobbing. It was hard keeping the act going when I did it to one of my friends.

Aedan looks pained and he draws me in for a hug. I clutch at his armor, burrowing myself as far as I can reach. I didn't mind half of the reassurances that flows in a steady stream from his mouth and I only vaguely felt the soft kisses he places at my forehead, at my tears, at my eyes. I was still trying to remember how to feel something other than despair and anger.

I couldn't really think clearly after a few minutes. In the end, I fell asleep against him, wishing with all that I was that I wasn't born a darkspawn in the first place.

* * *

**/Dead Trenches - Anvil of the Void - scene 4\**

I felt numb the whole night we camped at the location of the Anvil.

The deal I made with the Archdemon laid heavily on my mind. Their lives, my free will and my body's invincibility in exchange for the darkspawn attacking me while I didn't join the horde and my following the Archdemon's every word once we attack Ostagar and Denerim. It wasn't really free will but at least I could control my own body. I feel like it's worth it. I had faith in their abilities. They would survive.

That night, I slept in Aedan's hold again. I couldn't really rest my mind, but I could at least close my eyes and pretend that everything would be fine in the morning.

* * *

**/Dead Trenches scene 5\**

I had wondered why we were passing through the area where most of the broodmothers were staying but then I chalked it up to Aedan's sense of direction. Then when we fought the third broodmother, I was starting to think that it was planned.

We were fighting fairly well against the darkspawn and the broodmother. Then, I suddenly felt darkspawn presences arriving quickly. They had three ogres and too many darkspawn to count. There was just...too much.

Duncan and the other Wardens all looked at each other sharing alarmed looks. Aedan shouts for us to run and Neria, Zevran and Sten quickly starts working on the tentacles blocking the passageway. The rest makes a perimeter, guarding the three, now four as Aedan joins them in cutting through the block, so that they could work faster.

I didn't know where it went wrong but it did. Me, Leliana and Duncan were the only ones actively killing through the horde while the rest were aiming for those getting too close to the four working on the passageway.

It was me that first saw the tentacle coming for Duncan, who had just downed an ogre. He was regaining his breath for a second when I saw it heading straight for his back. Leliana saw it too and quickly shot an arrow. She missed narrowly, barely an inch as the tentacle shifted slightly in its course.

I didn't really think, I just ran and pushed Duncan away. Of course, I didn't really expect for the tentacle to go straight through my arm, which was still raised. I didn't even know that it was that sharp, but it cut straight through my arm. It didn't hurt, it never does but the others don't know that. Leliana's eyes widen and she sucks in a breath as my severed arm, still holding my dagger, lands right at her feet. Duncan was quick to react, catching me as I fell and stabbing the offending tentacle away.

I didn't feel pain but I felt awkward. I kept looking for a hand that wasn't there. Duncan's face was pained and grave as he looked over the stump. Then a surge of darkspawn came. Duncan hugged me close with one hand and the other holding out his longsword. It spoke a lot about his skill when he managed to kill a handful of hurlocks even while he lugged me out of the battle zone.

I'm not sure what the mages were doing to my arm but even as I laid on the ground, I could feel another tentacle surging through the ground right underneath Wynne. Suffice to say, I panicked and pushed Wynne away with my remaining arm and a tentacle broke through the ground where Wynne was just kneeling.

I half expected the appendage to aim for the four cutting through the passageway but when I looked at the broodmother, I felt my breath hitch. She was looking right at me. I struggled to get up but I was too slow and the tentacle had a hold of my neck within seconds.

I cried out in surprise and my scream got choked off when the appendage tightens. There were several cries of alarm but I didn't get to see them as I was suddenly flying through the air farther away from the group and closer to the darkspawn.

I hit the floor hard, unable to scream or even cry out with my bruised neck. I was wheezing for breath when I was grabbed by the hair and forced on the wall. It was a Hurlock Alpha. Vaguely, I wondered if it was the same alpha I had a staring contest with.

I didn't have time to think left when the offending monster stabs his jagged sword through my chest right below my collarbone and straight into the wall.

My sight grows hazy as the Alpha leaves me hanging by the sword on my chest. It was difficult to breathe. I might not be able to feel pain but my body still works the same as everyone else.

The last thing I see is Aedan's stricken face disappearing behind the opened passageway.

* * *

_-Presuming Zara dead, the group continues on to Orzammar, crowning Sereda Queen who was found with the Legion of the Dead. Much like Bhelen, she decides to bring change to the dwarven kingdom, opening surface trades and breaking down the castes. Pyral Harrowmont gracefully steps down from his running to be king and Bhelen makes to do the same until he is proven guilty of killing his oldest brother Trian. He is banished much like Sereda was. The group soon leaves, returning to Redcliffe and waiting for the army to amass. Duncan, who had originally planned to succumb to the Calling in the Dead Trenches, realizes that the Calling has disappeared. How it disappeared is still a mystery._

_The group moves on to Redcliffe where they receive news that Loghain has been arrested for treason to the crown after attempting to attack the king in anger once the Orlesian forces arrive. Cailan was injured, but alive. Anora followed her father in prison once she was caught trying to free the previous general. The group soon heads off to Ostagar and the new Warden-Commander leads the new united forces of the different races._

_Aedan, still distraught over the death of Zara, continues on, grieving the lover he never had._

**/The Siege on Ostagar -Just after Redcliffe, the group heads off to Ostagar; Zara is back to her old body and is leading the largest horde to attack Ostagar so far - scene 1\**

I could feel the difference between my old body and this one. My old body seemed...lighter, compared to this. It's like I upgraded. I had four horns before but now I had two black ones that curled backwards menacingly, much like Qunari, only mine was longer and had little tiny spikes growing around the base and at the sides. Speaking of spikes, what spikes I had before grew in size and were much smoother. Unlike back then, when I had carapace-like skin, now it felt more like armor. It was heavier and thicker around my shoulders, torso and my legs. The bone-wings were heavier now and I had four of them, two on each side. The only upside I could see in this was that I had hair.

As in actual hair! Longer than the curls I had when human even. The curls were black as night, reaching past my tailbone and it was beautiful. One thing I regret was my eyes. I liked my silver eyes when I was human. Now, something must have gone wrong. My left eye glowed a menacing, corrupted purple and there were veins stretching out from its corner into my left ear. My right eye remained the same though, but the silver was dull and faded and it looked dead, though I could still see from it.

I was not looking forward to attacking Ostagar in my true form. I was not under the illusion that the Warden group would not recognize me. At least the Archdemon wouldn't have me actively hunt the members of the Warden group, unless of course, they specifically aim for me. Of course, it would hurt emotionally, them attacking me. I might not feel that much positive emotion but I could still feel pain of the heart, even just a little.

I was not stupid. The others thought me dense but I wasn't. I just didn't act on it and chose to ignore it. Aedan was not as subtle as he thought he was. Those excessive hugs once he knew of my fondness of the act (not to mention Zevran's knowing smirk when he thought I wasn't looking), the lingering touches, the overly fond smiles and his almost always staying with me when he can, that near kiss when we were in the Deep Roads...

Nope, I am not stupid. And I am also not completely emotionless.

I will not deny that I felt a little...excited around him sometimes. But it was nothing more than a crush. I would be part of the first group to say that he was handsome, oh he was, sometimes exceedingly so. Makes me remember the time I proclaimed to the camp about how handsome and well-built he was when he arrived from a fresh bath wearing only his pants. The camp was under the impression that I was honest ("There's honest, there's frank and then there's Zara. She has her own level of bluntness. I don't think she ever heard the term overly honest before, to be honest." Faren says factually to Duran who was snickering at the look on Aedan's face.), innocent and completely unknowing of sex and passion (The scandalized look on Theron's face when he found Zevran lecturing me about sex using very clear descriptions and graphic demonstrations with his fingers was so worth acting the part of a innocent nymph who knew nothing about procreation. That Alistair was also listening in put the same scandalized expression on Wynne's face. That was priceless.). My declaration had Aedan blushing red he was almost purple and he looked about ready to hide in his towel.

Still, I wondered how he would react once he knew what I became.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the cool night air. The stars were clear tonight and the moon was bright. This was part of why I loved Thedas more than Earth. The stars were so clear here, you could almost see whole galaxies so far away.

Then the Archdemon called. I sighed and put all unnecessary thoughts out of my mind and focused on how I would make my first appearance in the horde. It would be my first time leading the horde into the battle and it would be the third battle that Aedan would lead. It would also be the first time that the Archdemon would make its appearance so close to the tower. It had already made its appearance, only in the sky and farther from the Wardens waiting for it. Now, it would stand behind me as I make my first appearance.

* * *

**/The Siege on Ostagar scene 2\**

It was silent in the forest and in the entrance of Ostagar.

Near the fortress, it was filled with light, of torches and fire and mages standing at the ready. But in the forest, it was dark and quiet where we stayed unseen. There was no sign of life, nothing at all. The presence of the Archdemon had quieted the horde but I knew they were following the corrupted dragon's example. They were waiting. Waiting for me to move. I, however, was waiting for the humans to act.

I could smell the gasoline on the grass. It was in a straight line farther in front of the army and closer to the side of the forest. They would light it and the fire would spread, making a straight line and burning all those in front. I waited for it.

I could feel them getting antsy, wondering where the darkspawn were. Some had already started murmuring to each other, wondering and asking each other if the darkspawn had somehow disappeared. There were a handful few already starting to shout and cheer and it soon grew like a wildfire. There were some who were not cheering, such as the kennel masters who were watching the shadows worriedly as the mabaris shifted and barked anxiously. I could see some members of the Warden group staying near Aedan and Cailan steadily watching the shadows, a grim look to their faces.

I focused on hive mind and felt the darkspawn buzzing patiently around me. They shifted a bit when I touched their minds but made no more moves other than that.

I touched the minds of the Blight wolves which were first in line and sensed the Emissaries right behind the wolves. Behind the Emissaries, it was already mixed with hurlocks and genlocks and shrieks and ogres already waiting patiently.

I sent out one Blight wolf. It ran closer to the fortress, barking madly and howling but not getting any closer. The mabaris tensed and started barking back but did not attack. The cheering quieted as the wolf continued to howl.

I saw, with Aedan's nod, one of the archers walking forward and readying his bow. He hit the wolf spot on the head and the poor thing went down quickly. As silence grew once more I felt the Archdemon make an order. The Blight wolves started howling all together, as if answering the dead one's call.

The soldiers tensed and the archers drew back their bowstrings. Cailan raised a hand and the same archer who killed the wolf prepared a lighted arrow. I had to commend that one, he hit the gas spot on. The fire spread quickly through the grass and the unmoving darkspawn came into view.

I breathed in deeply and started walking. The darkspawn shifted and made way for me and I tried not to think about how dramatic the Archdemon suddenly became in my absence.

The fresh fear that appeared on the faces of the soldiers as I came into view made me feel like I should be proud or something. However, I couldn't focus on anything else other than the expression on Aedan's face as he took a single step forward and sucked in a breath once he saw my face. Of course, his focus shifted quickly when the Archdemon made itself known with a flaming roar to the skies that far surpassed any natural fire present in the area.

I continued walking through the fire as if it weren't there and a few paces past it, I flare all four of my bone-wings and raise my right hand. I jerk my arm onwards and the darkspawn all charge, shrieking and making war noises.

The siege had begun.

* * *

_-Ostagar is lost and the armies have retreated Redcliffe but Aedan and his companions have found hope for Zara's 'recovery' from the darkspawn when she spares him on the tower in Ostagar. Zara leads the attack on Denerim afterwards and wait atop Fort Drakon for the Wardens to arrive._

**/Battle for Denerim scene 3\**

Denerim had good memories for me during my stay. It almost made me sad that I had lost contact with Goldanna when I started travelling with the Wardens. Now, though, I wasn't sure how to feel about the city burning below. The Archdemon was busy flying around the city, generally wreaking havoc and making it easier for the darkspawn to go around.

I breathed in and out in a steady rhythm, spreading out my senses as I looked for the Wardens. I found them easily enough, they were already close, slowly making their way through the darkspawn in the tower, followed closely by other Wardens.

I closed my eyes and waited.

I did not wait long enough.

"Zara."

I open my eyes and angle my head slowly towards the group behind me though I make no move to face them.

"It is you isn't it?" It was Neria who speaks. "You survived!" I almost smile at her childish enthusiasm. She was always going to be innocent.

When I don't answer, she deflates slightly. "Zara?" she asks, hesitantly this time.

I face the group then and saw the fragile hope growing in their eyes. The Orlesian Wardens who were right behind the group makes quick work to surround me, aiming weapons and making a defensive formation.

"Surround the darkspawn! Remember your orders, capture it if possible, kill if necessary." Calls out one of the helmeted idiots.

I keep my eyes on my previous companions but prepare my wings for any sign of attack that might come.

"The Archdemon," I start, "would not be happy seeing you here."

Aedan's lips purse and he steps forward. "The Archdemon is not my concern right now." he says and it comes out clipped and determined. "You remember us don't you? It's why you spared my life back in the Tower of Ishal."

"I have memories of you, yes." I speak slowly, my voice tapering off into a rasp at the end. "But they are not my memories. Nor am I your companion any longer." I was deliberately lying to them of course but it seemed they wouldn't believe it either way.

Leliana steps forward, bow in her hands. "You still are though. You spared all of us at Ostagar. Any normal darkspawn wouldn't do that."

I narrow my eyes at them. "If I was still your companion...you wouldn't be aiming that arrow at my eye." I sneer and Leliana's hold on her bow falters.

I huff and flare my wings briefly before settling them back down when the Orlesians tensed further. "I may share the same name, I may share the same face but I am not the person you left to die alone in the Dead Trenches." There was more than one flinch at that statement. I wonder when this confrontation will end.

"You are still Zara." Aedan says softly. "But you are bitter, having been left to suffer alone in the Dead Trenches." Aedan puts down his sword deliberately and looks me in the eye. Then he looks down, as if in shame. "I am sorry."

The apology takes me off guard but I do nothing but stare. "I am sorry." Aedan repeats. "For leaving you alone. For not returning to you. For not even attempting to get back your body." Aedan pauses. "I am sorry." he repeats softly.

I couldn't help but close my eyes, deeply regretting what I was about to say next. "What's done is done." I return just as softly. "There is nothing to be sorry for. There is nothing you can do about it now anyway." It was all lies still. I only said it to comfort him, if nothing else. But I knew the Archdemon heard it.

And he was angry once again.

"You're still Zara, see!" Neria cries out then, grasping her staff tightly in her shaking hands. "You're still Zara, aren't you! You wouldn't kill me when we were in the tower! You forgave us!"

Then Neria drops her staff and runs to me.

The alarmed cries from the others went ignored by the little red-haired mage and she hugs me as soon as I was within distance. The tears I felt running from her eyes made me feel uncomfortable. Hesitantly, I raised my bony clawed fingers and spiky arms and as gently as I can, hug her back. Neria lets out a tiny sob and burrows further in my body.

I wonder...how can Neria stand to hug darkspawn? How can she still stand to hug me?

I did not get an answer for that because as soon as I realized what would happen next, I pushed Neria away and stumble back away from them.

I lose control, and the Archdemon gains hold of my body.

* * *

**So far, these are all the snippets I've found in my files. I'll be looking for the other files just so that you guys have a general idea of what was supposed to happen in this timeline. Some major plot points were not included here seeing as its possible that I may still use them in the future rewritten version (stay tuned for that btw). **

**Sorry too, but I've got no fun fact or any good question for today's update. Ahhh, it's a such a sad life. Oh well, the rest of my story doodles I will try to put up once I find them. **

**One last note, I personally find it funny that I have so much scenes for the last battle but not much for the events in between. Has anyone ever experienced that before?**


End file.
